Public Enemy Number One
by SatyrsUnite
Summary: When the British CHERUB team meets the USA's recruits, tensions collide and curses fly. The world only comes crumbling down when the campus is deemed unsafe: rats have invaded the nest. Rated T for violence. OC x Callum
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! This is my first CHERUB fanfic that I have published, and I hope you all enjoy it! Let me know what you think: comments, critiques, ideas, anything! Thanks for reading! Takes place after Book III Maximum Security. Canon characters will appear in future chapters!**

Drowning isn't as swift and merciful as it is portrayed in the movies. There's no symphony music to calm you as you float lower and lower, farther and farther away from the water's surface, farther and farther from life. When you're drowning, no one instantly gives up and loses consciousness before they start sucking in water and choking and, ultimately, dying. There's no hero that dives in after you and pulls you out of the water in the nick of time, only for you to live happily ever after with little to no repercussions.

To me, drowning was a complete disappointment. I didn't get any of that fancy rescue crap or the peaceful end to an adventurous life.

The water was roiling angrily above my head, the mind-numbing cold stabbing into my veins, shock spiking my heart as powerful as a lightning bolt. No matter how hard I struggled, no matter how much time I tried to give someone to notice I was gone and to come save me, it was useless. I was going to die here, alone, my body maybe found by a bear and eaten, or I would wash up on some foreign country's shore and scare the crap out of some poor kid.

It didn't matter anyways. I could already envision Death swimming its way over, ready to grab hold of me and never let go.

Panic attacked my brain with renewed vigor. Never back down, never surrender! Slowly I began to kick my feet and stroke with my arms. _This wasn't so bad_, I tried to think positively. _Like swimming in a pool. Yeah, it's like swimming in a pool_.

But pools didn't try to kill you.

Arif and I were running through the rain, our trainers sliding in the mud, our training clothes becoming splattered until they were hardly recognizable underneath the grime. Behind us, we could hear the distant yelling of our trainer, Smalls. Unlike his name, he was incredibly big. He was average height for a fully grown adult male, around six feet, and every inch of his body was covered in toned muscle. His head was covered by a shock of blonde hair, cut accordingly to military regulations, while his body was covered in the same regulatory fashion: in a white T-shirt complete with a crosshair with CHERUB stamped onto it, green military style trousers, and boots that somehow were kept pristine even in this muddy terrain. I—and the rest of my team—were dressed similarly, except with navy or black T shirts.

Arif and I sped up when we heard Smalls start screaming, most likely at Sam or Zeke as they stumbled on the obstacle course behind us. This was the tenth consecutive round of the course we had been ordered to perform; Arif and I were the only ones that had managed to escape Smalls' cunning wrath.

The two of us dove underneath a covering of barbed wire, army crawling underneath the fifty meters of spikes and barbs and popping up on the other side in anything but record time. Every bone in my body seemed to be filled with lead, and I wanted to collapse right then and there. The Indian boy next to me was faring even worse, having rolled an ankle on the sixth course and deciding to soldier through it.

We finished that lap and sprinted back to Smalls, who was still screaming at the others to "climb that wall and kick this course's arse!" Of course, Smalls' thick British accent disfigured his words so it only made the trainees even more terrified, exhausted, and confused.

"Smalls," I panted, "'Rif and I are done with lap ten."

The man nodded. "Take a load off. You're done for the day."

I nearly cried in happiness as the two of us plopped down and let the rain run down our faces, cooling our skin, chilling the air that we sucked into our burning lungs.

A million things ran through my head at that point. They completely ruined the moment of relaxation I was so gloriously facing, and made me begin to stress again:

Shoot I forgot to finish the French homework! Miss Vermilliea is going to kill me.

I really should stretch so I'm not sore tomorrow.

Man I forgot to get a present for Zeke's birthday! Well, I guess he's getting secondhand tube socks, again.

Aw, man, this was the last clean uniform I had… formerly clean, that is. I should really try and get a squick of laundry done...

I was jolted out of my thoughts as three more boys joined our group, jumping and diving onto me and Arif in one massive dog pile. "Guys!" I groaned, trying to shove them off. "God, get off!"

"Aw, this just showing you we love you," Zeke laughed, twisting his body so his face was directly above mine. He gave me a slobbery kiss on my forehead. "See? Love."

A fiery head bumped Zeke's away, leaning over to give a toothy grin and a peck on the cheek. "Yeah, love," the smile said.

"Techno, I swear, if you don't get off I will kill you next time we spar."

Everyone scrambled off me then. Smalls marched over and inspected us with his hard eyes. "Nice work ladies," he smirked, "and Lacey." I twitched my lip in a weird smile. Smalls continued to look at us five: Arif, Techno, me, Zeke, and Sam. His five Americans, his five agents. "You all would make Henderson himself proud," he said. "Go inside, chill in the game room or whatever it is you Americans like to do. We'll train lightly tomorrow, and I have arranged for your classes to be pushed until tomorrow. I know I worked all of you; this exercise was tough, but cherubs are tougher, yeah?"

All of us yipped in glee, but as we staggered upright, Smalls put a hand on my shoulder. I turned, and noticed he had stopped Zeke as well. We both looked at each, at Smalls, then back at each other, instantly slamming our hands together in a high-five.

"No way," Zeke cheered. "Another mission?"

Smalls nodded. "Lancaster wants to see you in his office pronto. Here." Smalls dug out a pair of keys with one massive hand and tossed them into the air. My hand was a pale blur as it snatched it from the air. "Take my ride. It's not my problem if you get caught, alright?"

I bolted for Smalls' golf cart, which was parked conveniently at the edge of the training field, only a few hundred meters away. Zeke ran after me, cursing, trying to call driver's seat, trying to slam me from behind the wheel. "You get shotgun!" I laughed. "Losers weepers!"

"I swear to God next time I get beat by a girl I'll—"

"Do nothing," I smirked, and slammed on the gas pedal.

One of the most important rules of the CHERUB organization is to keep your mission briefings to yourselves. Of course, Zeke and I were itching to flaunt to the other boys, so after Lancaster—our mission controller—said we could go and pack up, we ran off with one of the briefings, radio tag and all.

Now, I did kind of feel bad for stealing it. Lancaster was a nice guy. He was in his early fifties, already had grey hair, and spoke so softly everyone had to strain to hear him. To be honest, he reminded me of the long lost grandfather that I had never had, so of course Zeke had to take my hand and stop me from going back and returning it.

The minute we stepped into the game room, with all the boys goofing around, I was happy we kept the briefing. Everyone's eyes lit up greedily, all whooping and reaching for the folder. Zeke tore it away and held it high. Being the oldest of us at seventeen years of age, he towered well above all our heads.

"You guys," he smiled, "are so bummed you didn't get this one."

"Dude, what do you have to do?" Techno asked, looking up from his laptop with what looked suspiciously like blueprints on its screen.

"How long are you guys going to be gone?" shouted Arif.

"Guys, guys," cajoled Zeke. "We can't say anything about this super important mission that we were hand picked for."

Sam looked up from a flat screen television that had been mounted on the wall. Currently, he was watching an episode of Dora the Explorer, and from his expression he was hating every second of it. "Shut up! Senorita Gonzalez is killing me. Says a two year old could learn the language faster than me. This is my last resort! So everyone needs to shut up so I can learn!" The small boy, fists clenched in frustration, then turned his attention back onto the children's program. "Why are you asking me where to go Dora? You have the freaking map!"

I rolled my eyes and plopped down on a bean bag, peeking at Techno's little project he was working on. Honestly, the entire mission shouldn't be too difficult. It was all recon, we'd be gone for a few days, be back with plenty of information. I'll admit, it would be nice to get out of this campus for a while. The entire place was small, with only five qualified agents to actually go on missions while a bunch of little kids—red shirts, as they were categorized—learned and trained until they were of age to complete missions. Sam was our latest addition, having come two years ago, which made him approximately twelve years old. Apparently the recruiters had seen something in him, but that something had not yet shown through.

That night, as I packed up the few kind of clean uniforms that I had, ready to be transported to my mission location at 0400, I should have taken the time to say goodnight to everyone. I should have taken the time to tell Techno that his blueprints of the campus kitchen weren't updated, and that if he tried to get a midnight snack using his planned route, he would get caught by the cameras the moment he walked in. I should have told Arif that he smelled and needed a shower. I should have told Sam to go to Senorita Gonzales herself and ask for extra help. But I didn't, and when I fell asleep, I should have at least packed an extra sweater, or maybe a waterproof cell phone with all my numbers in as contacts.

But I didn't. Tomorrow, I would drown with all these regrets crowding up my head.

**Reviews are much appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's chapter two! Thanks for the review LilMissCandy! Reviews are much appreciated! They keep me inspired!**

I was tired and irritated. First, I had to be driven off the CHERUB campus blindfolded, then I had to get on a commercial plane and be flown to Europe, all the while with an annoying little kid kicking my seat and crying behind me. Luckily I got a window seat, and was able to watch the clouds crawl by while jamming out to my iPod.

I scrolled through the main menu, went into Extras, and clicked on the Missions category. Lancaster had programmed my briefing into my iPod so I could go over it during the flight. Due to the lack of prior notice, he said it would help me memorize and understand my mission. I thought it was tedious because I had to squint to read the tiny print, and I had to make sure the elderly lady beside me wouldn't see it.

**CLASSIFIED**

MISSION BRIEFING FOR LACEY LLIATE

DO NOT COPY OR MAKE NOTES

THIS BRIEFING WILL BE DELETED UPON AIR ARRIVAL

(1) TerRIGHTS Group

What is TerRIGHTS? TerRIGHTS is an organization headed by Peter 2006, in order to compete with the imposing terrorist group Al-Quaeda, European radicals unsatisfied by local and national government leaders rose up in order to overwhelm and overpower political idealists who's beliefs contradicted their own, naming themselves TerRIGHTS, hoping the name to be feared. In March of 2006, their first victim, Lord Seymour Rushingham of Donnhegan was assassinated. He was to sign a bill issuing harsher crackdowns on local drug dealers, and while the true motive for this was unknown, TerRIGHTS claimed it was to help those with "poor income stabilize their financial situation by selling narcotics."

TerRIGHTS' cause is unknown. They have taken stands on political controversies from military troops entering hostile war zones to drug exports and imports to abortion. Officials believe that, while Peter Gluckenshiel founded the group, he is counseled by a board of his own trustees, in which influence his decisions.

(2) Why CHERUB?

Americans are known to vacation around the area where officials believe one of Gluckenshiel's bases is located. These operatives—strictly, one boy and one girl—are to act as a couple skiing around the resort. Reconnaissance is all that is needed, although closer research into compound's security is ideal as well. If caught, operatives are to use their cover and await governmental assistance. Using MI5 agents would have caused suspicion, as previous recon attempts had already been made and have been ultimately futile.

NOTE: ON THE 26TH DAY OF SEPTEMBER 2007 THIS MISSION PLAN WAS PASSED BU THE CHERUB ETHICS COMMITTEE BY A 5:1 VOTE, ON CONDITION THAT ALL AGENTS UNDERSTAND THE FOLLOWING:

This mission has been classified as LOW RISK, if proper precautions are taken. All agents are reminded of their right to refuse to undertake this mission and to withdraw from it at any time.

I would be given binoculars, thermal detection scanner, skis, clothes, and all other supplies upon arrival. All I had to do now was sleep. Well, try to. Zeke was a few rows in front of me, living the life. He had an empty seat next to him, with a quiet teenager on the other side.

The kid behind me kicked my seat again. I growled in frustration, balling my hands into fists, my knuckles blanching white. When a stewardess passed by, I seized my opportunity. "Excuse me, ma'am?" I said in my most polite tone, smoothing down my hair and trying to look innocent. "My friend has an empty seat up there, and its his first time flying. Do you think I could sit with him, just for a bit? I want to make sure he's alright."

The woman eyed me for a moment, analyzing me as though I was a likely suspect for becoming a terrorist. _That's what I'm trying to protect you against_. "Sure," she said at last. "Go right ahead, but come back to your seat."

The little boy kicked my seat again, jolting me forward.

I eased my way past the old woman, apologizing for jostling her, then nearly ran to the seat next to Zeke. I saw the teenager next to him, a boy, around my age, sitting with his hands on the armrests, twitching them nervously. He was talking to a friend on the other side of the aisle, their voices low. "Excuse me?" I interrupted, pointing to the extra chair beside him. "Sorry, I just wanted to sit with my boyfriend."

The boy eyed me for a moment before piling his legs onto his chair so I could slip by.

"Thanks." I squeezed past him and plopped down in the vacant seat, clipping on my seatbelt and gripping Zeke's hand. He looked up from his iPod, no doubt studying his briefing as well. "Hey dear," I said in my best lovey-dovey tone. "You okay? I know flying isn't your thing."

"Yeah," grumbled Zeke, interlocking our fingers. "I think I'm alright, for now. Thanks for coming over."

I smiled. "I had a nosy old woman next to me, and a kid that kicked the back of my seat every five seconds. Trust me, I should be thanking you."

"Oh, so now you're just using me?"

I nudged his side good-naturedly with my elbow. "Aren't you funny?" I said. "How long until we get there?"

"To the Alps? Um, five more hours at least. Then we get on another plane that will take us into Switzerland, and we ski from there."

My head rested on Zeke's shoulder, my iPod in my hand. "That's sounds good."

"Yeah, can't wait." Zeke gave me a kiss on my forehead, always playing the devoted boyfriend. "Get some rest. I'll wake you up later, promise."

I nuzzled my head onto Zeke's bony shoulder and tried to get some sleep.

We had switched planes in London, England, and this time I was placed next to Zeke, thank god. There were no annoying kids behind me, or nosy old ladies. However, there was the quiet teenager sitting—guess where—yup, right next to me. Zeke and I had been placed in the annoying middle row of the plane. There were four seats, and Zeke and I occupied two of them. The boy and his friend sat in the other two, still mumbling quietly to one another.

It was Zeke's turn to sleep, and so I offered my shoulder as a pillow. Zeke was more than happy to shut his eyes, already feeling jet-lagged.

So that left me with nothing to do. My briefing had been deleted, my iPod nearly dead, and a bad romantic comedy had been playing for the past two hours on a huge screen in front of me.

I groaned when the movie selection ended, and a kid's cartoon filled its spot.

"I hate airplane rides," said a voice beside me, a little hard to understand because of his thick British accent. I turned my head and saw the blonde teen staring at the screen. "They always take forever, and usually you get a crying baby behind you or something." He turned to look at me with sparkling blue eyes.

I didn't know what he wanted me to say. "I got a nosy old woman and an angry little boy behind me on the last flight," I blurted out. "It was pretty bad."

"Until you switched seats," he smiled.

I grinned. "Yes, until I switched seats."

The boy twitched his hands again, his fingers tapping against the armrest energetically. "You snore," he snickered. "Just thought you'd like to know."

I rolled my eyes. "Loudly?"

"Oh yeah. Like thunder." The boy stuck out his hand. "My name's Callum."

"Lacey, nice to meet you." I shook his hand, marveling at how my small hand disappeared inside his.

"Hold up," said another voice. "I want to be introduced! Callum, move out of the way!" A boy leaned forward from the other aisle seat. My eyes widened, and I looked from him to Callum.

"Whoa, you guys are identical." Both had the same mop of blonde hair, same crystal blue eyes, same nose, same mouth, same… everything. "That's pretty awesome," I laughed.

Callum's brother outstretched his hand. "My name's Connor!" he said. "And you're Lace… Las… Lassie, right?"

"Lacey," I corrected and shook his hand.

"Nice going genius," Callum said.

"Dude, shut up! I totally got this!"

Callum rolled his eyes and shook his head towards me. I couldn't help but laugh. "So where are you headed?" he asked politely.

"The Alps," I replied. "Zeke's family flew up a few days earlier. We're staying at a ski lodge, so I'll be trying my best not to fall flat on my face and look like an idiot in front of all the foreigners."

"Technically, you'd be the foreigner," said Callum. "You're American, right?"

"Your accent is weird," Connor added.

"Gee, thanks you two," I said. "And yeah, I'm a Yankee all the way."

Connor strained to get closer, pulling and tugging on Callum as he tried to stretch his seatbelt. "Do you guys all drive trucks and hunt things and drink beer?"

"I'm not a redneck; I don't drive a truck, I don't hunt animals, and I don't drink beer if I'm not at the legal age. Twenty one is still far away."

"Twenty one?" Connor questioned. "We get to drink when we're eighteen!"  
>"Good for you."<p>

Meeting the twins was rather interesting, not to mention entertaining. Callum and Connor loved to squabble a lot amongst themselves, and it was humorous to say the least. When I had asked which one was older, they both said they were. Their reasoning was that they thought most women liked older men, and despite the fact that my fake boy toy was drooling on my shoulder, oblivious to the world, they saw me as fair game.

"Oh you silly British twins," I said a few hours later, just as we were about to descend for the runway. "It was nice to meet you both." I shook Zeke awake and held his hand even tighter, just to support his fear of flying act. Zeke played his part well, closing his eyes, cringing when we heard the landing gear deploy, and yelping when we touched down.

At any other circumstance, I would have laughed and taken a picture.

"Nice to meet you too Lacey!" they said. Just as I reached to unbuckle my seat belt, Callum took my arm, scribbled down something in Sharpie, and the twins ran off the plane the moment the door hatch began to open.

I stared down at it.

He had written down his address.

_Cocky little Brit_, I thought, secretly loving every minute of it.

Zeke and I were lying down in the snow. We had built a snow cave on one side of a snow bank, making a little slit on the other side in order to spy on the little building built on the other side.

We had found Gluckenshiel's compound. It was surprising less high tech than I first imagined. It was covered in a multitude of white and grey paint to blend in with its surroundings, with dark black windows only on the very top of the building. There was a chain link fence about thirty feet from the building, edged with barbed wire, and a sign that said YOU ARE TRESPASSING ON GOVERNMENT PROPERTY. LEAVE OR BE PROSECUTED TO THE FULLEST EXTENT OF THE LAW. The building had a garage in the back, probably for storing snowmobiles, and a keypad for the main—and only—door.

"This is the worst security system I think I've ever seen," grumbled Zeke, holding up his binoculars and brushing one gloved hand through his short black hair.

"Twenty bucks says there's more than meets the eye," I said.

Zeke put down his binoculars and grinned craftily. "You're on. Twenty bucks." Our excitement died immediately. We would have to wait for someone to come along and enter the compound to prove the winner of our bet.

Zeke groaned. "Can't wait to spend a few more days sitting in a snow cave! Why couldn't Techno or Arif had come?"

"You look more normal," I explained. "Zeke, you're a Virginian white boy. You've done well on missions! Arif has direct ties to India, so that means he'll stick out like a sore thumb in the snow, and Techno… well, he's Techno. All he knows how to do is type on his computer. Our ethnicities pretty much fit in to average marriage stereotypes."

"Don't be getting all statistical on me, Lace."

I rolled my eyes and adjusted my binoculars. My free hand fumbled for a radio that lie between us. I flicked it on. "This is Recon One to Command Center. Repeat Recon One to Command. Do you copy? Over."

"This is Command. Go for gold, over." The low whispery voice was undoubtedly Lancaster's.

"We've got a negative on any outside security systems. Razor wire fence, key pad on the main door, security unknown on an attached garage, over."

"Copy that Recon One. You are a go for a closer look. Switch to headsets and spread out, over."

"Copy, over." I flicked off the radio and took the earpiece Zeke handed over to me. He fidgeted with his and gave me a plan of action while I attached mine.

"You scope out the garage door, I'll take the main. Report back any of your findings. This is intense stuff."

"You got it Zeke."

I began to crawl out of the snow cave. "Hold up," Zeke said. "Put on your mask. It's way colder out there and if you get spotted, you won't want them to see your face."

I nodded. "Gotcha. You stay safe now, you hear?"

"You too." We both crawled out and began slowly army crawling in our separate directions. We abandoned our skis because we thought we were too close to the compound, and our suits blended in perfectly with the snowy terrain.

Icy wind whipped at my face mask, shoving through and cracks in my clothing to freeze my skin. Already my teeth began to chatter. I was cold as it was, but I was even colder because of the icy dog tags that pressed against my chest. Stamped on the metal slats was my thumb print, slightly altered, but recognizable by any CHERUB system. Every soldier deserves to find their way home, dead or alive. These tags made that a reality, if they weren't removed by the enemy that killed you. It would be pointless for them to use either way; they would never be able to decode it.

Also, I liked them because it made me look cool, and wearing dog tags as a soldier was pretty much regulation for US military.

I was edging near the fence, the garage in sight. To my happiness, it only had a deadbolt, well, two deadbolts and a lock that is. I radioed Zeke.

"Recon Omega to Recon Alpha. Repeat Omega to Alpha, do you copy? Over."

"Copying. What did you find on your end? Over."

"Garage door is one sliding door, big enough for snowmobiles. Secured by two deadbolts and one lock, over."

"Front door is secured by a keypad, and what looks like screens. I'm at the door—I win twenty bucks though, there's no other security—and that's all I can see, over."

My heart dropped. "Screens? Could they be to cameras? Over."

"I don't think so. I think they're—" His voice was cut off by a whirring sound. "Oh god," Zeke gasped. "Oh god, ohgodohgodohgodohgodohgod."

"Alpha, what's happening?" My heart sank into my stomach, my intestines writhing and crawling uncomfortably.

"They're after me. Get out, Omega, get out!"

**I'm sorry if my facts are a little messed up. NOTE: TerRIGHTS is not a real group, nor is Lord Seymour Rushingham. Made them up for the sake of the story. Any reviews, Author Alerts, Story Alerts are much appreciated! Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**I know I've been posting a lot, but I'm on a roll here so… hopefully you enjoy this chapter! Any reviews would be welcomed! And responded to. **

"Get out, Omega, get out!"

Zeke's words stunned me for a moment. I listened to my communicator, hearing snippets of heavy breathing as Zeke began to run. Suddenly, an alarm went off inside the building. It was wailing, the kind that you would expect to hear if you needed to evacuate immediately. It hurt my ears, even though I was outside.

I wouldn't be able to help Zeke on foot. I did the only I could do: get a snowmobile.

The moment I grabbed the fence, I cringed. The razor wire bit into my gloves and jabbed into my fingers. I looked at the ground, but there wasn't time to dig a way under. I planted my feet on two of the links, and began to pull myself to the top. Pain shot through my body with every hold, with every second I clung onto the metal. My teeth clenched down on my lower lip. _This is easy. Stop being such a baby_, I thought to myself. _Zeke needs you._

Swiftly making my way to the top, I propelled myself over the coils of barbed wire and plopped down on the snow fifteen feet below. Already I could hear voices from inside the garage; the only thing I had now was the element of surprise.

In the end, I didn't have to worry about the locks. A man on the other side unlocked those quickly and pushed the door open. My fist came up and hit him in the temple, making him crumple to the ground. He had two other friends with him; they were still stunned as I shoved one man into the other, hopping aboard one of their mobiles, starting it up with a roar, and speeding off.

The fence stood no chance. The moment the front of the vehicle bashed into it, the entire thing fell back like a chopped tree.

Icy powder clouded behind me as I cut sharp turns and opened up the engine to full throttle, speeding from the headquarters and to a distant Zeke. Four people were chasing after him, on foot, trying to shoot him with their handguns but too unsteady to land a shot. I sped past them, zipped next to Zeke, and held out a hand.

"Get on!" I cried. He took my hand and leapt onto the back, wrapping his arms around me.

"Recon One to Command, do you copy? Over," Zeke, panicking, began to say.

It seemed to take Lancaster an awful long time to respond. "Yes, we copy. What's wrong Alpha? Over."

"We're being followed. I blew the cover. Completely screwed up. Command, we need to head to safety—" A strangled cry erupted from his lips.

"Oh my god are you alright?" I yelled over the blowing wind.

"I think they shot me," he gasped. He put a hand to his side, pulling it back. "Oh god, yup, there's blood." He collapsed against me. "Oh god there's a lot of blood."

My mind was racing, my heart pounding. One of those men must've gotten a lucky shot. "Hang in there Zeke," I said, my escape plans colliding together, my eyes darting around for openings and opportunities. "I'm going to dump this thing, leave you there with a tracer, okay? I'll lead them away from you."

"No!" Zeke cried. "Let me go. We can't lose you."

"Don't argue with me. I'm the driver!" I leaned towards the right and pulled the snowmobile into a hard turn. Zeke gasped again. "I'm so sorry."

Zeke gritted his perfectly white teeth. "Don't worry about it."

I rolled my eyes. Such a Zeke comment.

The men were slowly falling behind us, but I could hear the distant din of other motors firing up. Soon we would be pursued again, and this time, they would get more than lucky shots.

The powder we kicked up erased most of our tracks, and I managed to steer into the forest surrounding the headquarters. I killed the engine, got off, and unzipped Zeke's multiple layers.

Blood seeped through my fingers. I tore off a piece of my shirt and balled it up. "Zeke, this is going to hurt, but it should stop the bleeding." Zeke bit down on his sleeve and nodded. I shoved in the ball of fabric into the ragged hole in his side. The wound itself shouldn't be life threatening; he would die sooner of the cold than he would the bullet. But it was going to hurt him, a lot. He couldn't run with this wound, else he could aggravate the tear and make the damage worse.

I left the main radio with him, flicking on its tracer. "I'll be back in ten minutes. If I'm not then I'm probably not coming back, ever." Zeke opened his mouth to protest, but I leaned forward and kissed his forehead. "Not another word. Stay safe."

And I bolted off, deeper into the forest, cutting across into open view, making my tracks as prominent as possible. Zeke was going to be found, if I gave Lancaster enough time.

I dared to look behind me, but instantly wished I didn't. Two snowmobiles, complete with two baddies each, were on my tail. Surprisingly, their guns were lowered, and I wondered why. In my lack of concentration, I wasn't looking in front of me. In hindsight, I really should have been looking in front of me. I would have noticed the sharp drop off sooner, or heard the rush of roaring water. But I didn't, which really, really sucked.

I looked ahead and skidded to a stop. Two stories below was a roaring river, chunks of ice floating in the rough currents. I wanted to scream in frustration, especially when I whirled around and saw my enemies had surrounded me. "Game's over kid," one hulk of a man said, in a surprisingly American accent. The hulk raised his gun, aiming it. "Where's your friend?"

I took a nervous step back. There was no where to run. I was stuck between a gun and a cliff. Hm, which way would I like to die?

That moment, I chose the smartest option I thought I had: I spun around and leapt off the edge.

Wind howled in my ear, my arms and legs wind-milling as though to propel me farther from the cliff face. Then, I stiffened, flattening my legs together and my arms to my body. The sounds of the raging water were so loud, the wind screaming, gunshots exploding all around me, then:

Silence. Utter and complete silence. And shock, loads of it. Electricity seemed to stab my heart, the cold seemed to knock my mind senseless. I couldn't move, even as my lungs began to burn and I toppled head over heels in the water. I was drifting farther and farther away from the surface. The side of my head cracked against a rock, hidden in the roiling depths of the water. Everything went fuzzy.

I didn't feel like fighting anymore. I didn't feel like trying to swim, even though my body angrily demanded air. If asphyxiation didn't kill me, the cold would. The water was barely above freezing point, and if I got out, the blistering chill of the elements would make me want to crawl back into the river. Besides, no one was coming to save me. Ten minutes had come and gone. Zeke would know not to go searching for me. I could only hope he was alright, and was safe and somewhere warm.

My eyes, still open since the fall, looked up towards the surface. Light played on the water, dancing as though the churning river was a dance floor. That would be the last thing I would see. Strands of my hair fell into view, as did bubbles of precious oxygen trickling from my lips. I could practically see Death swimming over to grab hold of me, never letting go. I was ready to give up.

Just then, a voice rang through my head, none too gentle. "Get up runt! What're you doing? I didn't say you could take a break!"

"But I…" I tried to gurgle.

"Runt, start moving those arms! I want to see your head pop up and I want to see you take a nice breath of air in five seconds! Don't make me come down there and save your sorry little backside." I couldn't respond. My lungs were on fire, crackling into embers. "Runt, I swear to God if you don't start moving I am going to haunt your soul in Hell! This is tough, but cherubs are tougher!"

Smalls. That's who it was. Smalls. How was he talking to me? Smalls. I should really try to get moving. For Smalls. For the boys. _My _boys. Somehow, I managed to push myself off the rock that smacked my head, and madly paddled for the light. So close, come on…

"Where are you? I don't see you moving!" Smalls was bellowing now.

"I'm trying!" I tried to say, but thought better of it and focused instead on bursting into the open air.

I couldn't get enough as my head broke through, water droplets flying from my hair, the icy air drying it to my skin. "I'm up!" I shouted. "I'm up!" Instinct kicked in. What had I been thinking? I didn't want to die! I wanted to live! I wanted to go on missions! I wanted to see the world and make new friends and learn new languages and kiss a boy for once in my life! Not die like some character in a bad tragedy film!

I began swimming towards the edge, albeit the strong current was sweeping me farther and farther from where I jumped, which meant I was growing farther and farther away from help, from Zeke, from Lancaster and a helicopter. I thought this mission was low risk!

The swimming technique one would use for this kind of situation is called "corkscrew." I spun like a top to one side and tried to cling onto the edge, but the current was too strong. It tore my hands away.

I bobbed in the water like a ball a child would try to hold underwater, but kept popping back up. Desperately I scanned the edge of the river to find something, anything that would try and save me.

There! Nestled in a thicket of trees as a steel shack, the only window glowing brightly. Someone must be in there. "Help!" I screamed. "Help! In the river! Help!" I saw one of its doors slid open, and a small inkling of hope rose in me as a head poked out, looking around warily. "Help!" I cried again. This time, the head stopped and scanned the river.

I tried to grab at the side again, my hands sticking to the ice and the skin getting ripped off. I managed to suck in one last breath of air before I was sucked underneath an ice shelf. There was no chance now. This ice shelf could go on for miles. The ice could be feet thick, and I would never be able to break it. Still, I heard Smalls screaming in my ear. Never give up, never surrender.

My fingers clawed for purchase on the slick surface. My fists became pounding on the ice, not even making it crack. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes. My throat felt sore, like I wanted to cry. Why did this have to be so hard? Someone give me a break!

I opened my mouth and gulped down water, choking and swallowing down even more.

Little black dots began to invade my vision. My hands… they wouldn't work right. They couldn't even ball up into a fist. As a last resort I kicked at the ice, once, twice, three times with my boot, and heard a resounding crack. I swam to the opening and sucked in air, coughing up the water, trying to avoid the darkness that swirled around me.

I tried to kick the hole so it would expand, so I can crawl out. Not even a flake chipped off. Game over is right. I was done for. The cold… the darkness seemed so warm. Maybe I should just… drift… I should drift… into the darkness. Maybe I should…

The ice cracked around me. A hand yanked on my shirt collars, yanking me through the air. I was thrown onto firm ground, but I couldn't breathe. The darkness… coming over me… Death, thank you. Thank you for collecting me.

**I'm debating whether I should make this multi POV, maybe making it with Callum's POV in the future… any opinions? PM or review me please! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Chapter 4

**I've decided that cursing is unavoidable. It's apart of Muchamore's style, so rated T for cursing also… so here's the next chapter! Review please!**

Callum's POV

Connor thought I had been going crazy. As we ran off the plane, he punched my shoulder. "What the hell?" I snarled at him. Connor was doubled over, cackling.

"You dog!" he laughed. "What did you give her?"

I shrugged. "An old address. It'd get forwarded to campus."

"What? You expect her to write you a letter or something? Dude, did you not see that bloke she was with? You have no chance!"

I pushed him over. "At least I tried! We are never gonna get Gabrielle dude!"

"Correction: _you_ aren't. I've seen her eyeing me."

I rolled my eyes and hailed a taxi. The weather out here was foul. I only hoped the driver spoke English. "Bloody hell you've gone mental." Connor and I fought for the front seat as a cabbie pulled up next to us. Connor managed to slip his way inside, leaving me to slide into the back.

Luckily, our cabbie knew a few words in English, so while the drive was in silence, we at least were going in the right direction.

During the trip, I tried to give Connor my best glares, imagining I was smacking him repeatedly. The thought took the edge off my anger. Connor—after getting hopelessly drunk two nights ago—had broken curfew and wandered around campus stark naked. I had to run after him, managing to coax him back into his room, put on his clothes, and went to bed. Then, as if my life wasn't embarrassing enough, Mac had both of us escorted to his office in the morning. Connor wouldn't confess to what he did, and since we're identical, Mac didn't know which had committed the stupid drunken crime. I tried to tell him it was all Connor's fault, but he couldn't take my word for it since Connor kept denying every allegation!

In the end, we both got punished. Thankfully it wasn't for very long—Connor had a mission in the next few days, so we couldn't clean out the irrigation ditches or go on a recruitment mission because that would take too long. Sadly, we got stuck helping Large, Mr. Speaks, and Miss Smoke organize and watch over the final days of Basic Training, which just so happened to be in stupid blistering cold Switzerland! Thanks Connor. That's what I want to do in my free time!

We arrived at a ski lodge and paid the cab driver. Large and the trainees had already arrived. This was the day they were supposed to pack up and start their final days of training, so I didn't even get a chance to rest.

Once again, thank you Connor.

We were stationed at the third day check-in point. Large had given us a radio, a quart of gas, mattresses, and a heater. There was already food in the big metal shack we were ordered to find and stay in.

So for three, four days, I was going to be stuck with my hyperactive brother in the freezing cold with nothing to do. Grand.

It was the second day. We were preparing for any arrivals by building a snowman. We even managed to scrounge together scraps of a grey blanket together to make as a grey shirt so the trainees would know they found the right spot.

I hurled a ball of snow at my brother, who was sitting by the bottom half of the snowman, methodically placing patches of ice here and there to fix any cracks.

"Hey!" he cried as it exploded on the side of his head.

"I'm still mad at you," I said. "I hate it out here!"

Connor tore off his mittens and scooped up some snow. "Get over it. There's nothing you can do."

"You could have confessed!"

"But then I would have been stuck out here alone!" Connor threw his snowball and I nimbly dodged out of the way, beaming him on the side with my own. "I would have gone crazy Callum!"

My eyes traveled to my brother's hands, which were turning red and blue. "You already are idiot," I smiled. "Go inside; you're going to give yourself frostbite!"

Even though Connor could be annoying at times, I loved my brother. We had been through a lot together, and not just when we were recruited into CHERUB. When we were younger, when our mother wasn't in prison yet, we had grown close as can be during those days… those terror days…

I shook my head. _Don't think about it_, I thought. _Not now. Not now._

I was about to head in too when a voice caught my ears. I scanned the horizon for any recruits, but found none. Not surprising, considering all recruits should be arriving tomorrow.

"You coming?" Connor asked, pausing at the doorway.

"Course," I replied, stepping into the warmth of the shed.

"Help! In the river! Help!" Who was that? Poking my head out into the bitter cold, I looked at the river that flowed twenty meters from the shed. "Help!"

My feet started moving before my mind could even process what was happening. Something had caught my eyes, something that was moving wildly in the river, all white. A block of ice couldn't have moved as erratically as that.

I managed to spot two waving limbs as they struggled to cling onto the shore. The being managed to hang onto the side long enough for our eyes to lock—my critical blue eyes staring into their terrified gaze—before they were dragged under the water again by the raging current. "Connor!" I screamed. "Connor! Get out here!" I ran as close to the river as I thought was safe. It wouldn't do them any good if the ice cracked below me and both of us were sucked away.

I couldn't see the drowning man anymore—I assumed it was a bloke for the suit they wore seemed bulky—and that frightened me. My eyes scanned the shore, but I couldn't spot those eyes—oh those terrified eyes!—anyway. Then, it hit me: they must've been dragged underneath the ice.

Connor stumbled over. "What is it?" he shouted.

"Someone got dragged underneath the ice!"

"Bloody hell was it a grey shirt?"

"Does it bloody well matter? Find them!" I spread out, eyes scanning the ground beneath me. Finally, I felt a bang. Dear God, were they drowning right beneath me?

The ice in between my feet cracked open, revealing a tiny portion of flowing water. A pair of lips appeared, gasping in air. Before I knew what was happening, I slammed my foot down again and again around the ice, willing it to break apart. It took an agonizingly long time, and when I finally got a large enough hole, I reached into the water and pulled the man out.

They were wearing a white thermal suit, blending in perfectly with the snowy terrain. "Connor!" I shouted. "Help me!" My brother ran over, taking the man by the armpits and helping me carry him to firm land.

His eyes were closed, his body still. Bending down I ripped off his mask.

Connor started laughing. "Dude, she's hot!" he smiled. "I wouldn't mind getting off with her!"

"She's nearly dead!" I shouted. "Radio Large! Now!"

My brother ran off, and I patted the girl's face. "God, wake up, wake up!"

CHERUB training teaches you all basic medical techniques, including CPR. So it was instinctive for me to tilt her chin, hold her nose closed, and blow air into her mouth. I pressed on her chest, hard, once, twice, three times, then blew. Press, press, press, blow. It was a rhythm that kept me warm, even as the bitter wind scratched at my clothes and shoved cold into my veins.

Finally, I heard it: the soft exhale of the girl. For some reason, she looked familiar, but I wiped my head clear of the notion. I couldn't ponder this now. I needed to get her to warmth, to safety.

She was surprisingly heavy. All the water in her suit must've been weighing her down. Now, I'm not particularly strong, so carrying her into the shed was almost too difficult to manage. "She's breathing," I said to my brother, slamming the door shut and yanking the heater closer. "But she's unconscious, probably facing severe hypothermia."

Connor rushed to my aid. "I radioed Large. He's coming. What can I do to help?"

"Get all the blankets you can find. We need to get her warm. Find a spare set of clothes I can put her in." The entire room was a whirlwind of clothing as my brother frantically sifted through our supplies.

My fingers were shaking so bad I could barely tear the zipper from her jumper. I was able to pull that off of her, and began clawing away her undershirts and pants as fast and furious as a mama bear protecting its cubs. Soon, she was left with nothing but her birthday suit, and I tried not to look at her while I yanked on a dry pair of sweatpants and a cloth jacket. "Oh god," I murmured. "Please dear God save her." I wrapped her in my arms, swathing her in as many fabrics Connor was able to find. We brought the heater even closer, but it did nothing to stop her violent shivering.

Large arrived five minutes later, bursting into the shed. "Hello ladies," he smirked. "What's the situation?" His eyes dropped to the girl in my arms, still shaking so hard she seemed as if she was having a seizure. Large bent down and picked something up from the floor. It looked like an ear piece, but where'd it come from?

Large cursed under his breath. "Check if she has a necklace," he said suddenly. My hand reached into her shirt—okay, not in a creeper way—and pulled out a metal dog tag.

"Yeah." My voice was so soft, so high.

"Shit." Large put the ear piece in. "We've got your girl," he said to no one in particular. He paused, as though someone was answering. "Name's Large, head of Basic Training in Britain CHERUB campus. Smalls? That you?" Another pause. "We've got your girl. She's alive, at the moment. What is our plan of action?" Pause. Connor and I looked at each other nervously. "Copy that, over and out." Large took out the ear piece. "Callum, take her onto the chopper. You're going back to campus. Make sure she's fine. Connor, stay here. Speaks is going to take over. Let's move!"

My arms were aching when I lifted the girl up again. This time she was lighter, to my immediate relief. I ran to a helicopter that had landed outside, the gale created by its whirring blades having destroyed our snowman. When I hopped into the aircraft, she was taken from me and placed on a gurney. Medics swarmed her, inserting IVs and covering her body with warm blankets.

The only thing I could do was sit helplessly and watch.

( ( ( ) ) )

It had been a long ride. We had to stop to pick up a boy, who I didn't recognize, and he was hysterical. He would be calling out for "Omega" and reaching over to the girl. His side was wrapped tightly with bloodstained bandages, and while the medics tried to hold him down, he kept struggling. At one point he tried to fight them off, so Large, me, and a few others had to hold him down while a woman pricked him with a needle.

The boy was unconscious in seconds.

Then, we transferred from helicopter to helicopter, switching when we were running low on fuel. Large told me to try and sleep, but I was so jittery I couldn't get even a wink in.

Now, I was back at campus, in the infirmary. No one but me and Large had been allowed in. Actually, I wasn't even allowed out.

One of the staff had brought me a tray of food. It seemed appetizing, but my stomach could only handle the wrapped package of crackers that came with the soup.

Everything was so quiet. The beeping of an EKG was the only thing breaking the silence. I was extremely bored. There was a flat screen in the room, but I didn't want to turn it on for fear the boy and the girl would wake up.

Someone knocked on the window. I turned and smiled. A few of my mates were making faces at me from the window. "Oi, how's it hanging there mate?" a blonde and buff teen said. "Havin' fun?"

"Bored out of my friggin' mind is more like it," I said. "How'd you know I was back James?"

"Saw Large. He's come back too soon. Figured something was wrong. Brought Bruce and Kyle along with me."

"What? No Kerry?"

"She's not back from her mission yet."

"She must be in pretty deep huh?"

James nodded. The boy with dark hair yet porcelain skin cleared his throat. "Sorry to interrupt you two's gossiping but what the bloody hell happened?"

I rolled my eyes. "Well, Kyle, I have no bleeding clue. All I know is some girl nearly drowned in a river, I saved her, some boy is shot for no reason, and now they're here!" I put a hand to my head. "It's making my head all muddled."

"Yeah, because it wasn't like that before," Kyle said dryly.

My head snapped up. "Shove off Kyle!" Bruce, a wiry and short Asian boy, began waving at me energetically. "What is it?" I asked.

"Mate, you better—"

Suddenly my head slammed against the glass, something having smacked it from behind. I spun around and froze.

The girl was sitting up in her bed, her eyes narrowed as she focused on me.

**Thanks for reading! See that button? Right below this? Yeah, it really wants to be clicked!**


	5. Chapter 5

**This is sort of a filler chapter, but it's a chapter! Here you go…**

Lacey's POV

The boy struck me as familiar. He was standing in front of a window, three other boys all looking at him. I looked around, my head swimming. Where was I? An infirmary of some sort, that much was obvious, but where, exactly?

No one had noticed I was up yet, so I took the pillow behind my head, shakily sat up, and threw it at the boy's head.

Perfect shot. The pillow arced through the air and slammed into the blonde, smashing his face against the window. The boy's face was priceless! My stomach hurt from laughing.

And then… I could feel all the blood trickle from my face. It was that twin, the one from the plane. "Are you Callum or Connor?" I asked quietly.

At first, the boy's brow furrowed in confusion. "How do you know my—wait, Lacey?"

"Where am I?"

The twin nervously glanced down, toeing the ground with his sneakers. "I can't tell you exactly."

My eyes narrowed. This didn't feel right. "Then give me an approximation. I'm not messing around boy."

"I shouldn't tell you that either."

The hair on the back of my neck prickled to attention. Kicking off the bed sheets, I swung my legs to the side of the bed and gingerly stood up. The floor was so cold on my bare feet.

The twin cried out. "Stop!" he said. "You shouldn't get out of bed!"

"Which one are you?" I repeated, taking a slight step forward.

"Callum! I'm Callum! Can you please go back to bed?"

Another step forward. I was getting the hang of this. Another step, another, another. Soon I was lightly jogging in place, warming up my body. "Tell me where I am then Callum. Now."

"I can't."

My fist was a blur as it wrapped around his shirt collars and pulled him close. Our faces were only an inch apart. "Listen," I growled. "I will beat you to a pulp unless you tell me where I am, now."

The boy had startling blue eyes, and swirling in that color was fear, anger, and helplessness. Outside, his friends were cackling, pounding on the glass in fits of hysterics. "I can't," whispered Callum. "I'm sorry."

I shoved him away in disgust. I could always beat him later. Instead, I pressed my face against the window and looked out. There was the curve of a track far away, a grassy field to the right of it, as well as a few more buildings. Why did this all seem so familiar?

Then, to make matters even worse, a group of teenagers walked by on a path, all wearing grey and navy T shirts. CHERUB T-shirts. Like my T-shirt.

Someone groaned behind me. "Lacey, that you?"

Zeke. "Hey buddy," I cooed, rushing to his bedside, putting a hand over his. "How you feeling?"

"Like shit." Although Zeke's eyes were closed, one of his hands inched weakly to his side, feeling the bandages. "A bullet doesn't feel too good, you know?"

I pulled his hand away, patting it gently. "Glad to see you're okay," I murmured. "Wouldn't know what I'd do with myself if you were killed."

"Hey, you were the one who almost drowned."

"Keyword: almost." The corners of his mouth tugged up slightly. I patted his hand. "Go back to sleep. I'll take care of you."

"Thanks Omega."

"Anytime Alpha."

I watched my friend as he slowly drifted back into the bliss of slumber. His heart monitor was reassuring to me, beeping out a steady heart rate, deeming him safe and normal. For now.

Callum cleared his throat behind me. I slowly turned to face him, and froze.

Next to him was a gigantic man, muscles bulging against his white CHERUB shirt, his eyes cold and amused. Overall, he looked like a clone of Smalls, exchanging the blonde hair for red.

"Lacey Lliate," his deep voice thundered.

"Depends on who's asking," I glared back, standing up, my fists clenched. "You are?"  
>"Large. I've got answers, and I'm only go to say them once, so you better shut up and listen, got it?"<p>

"Aye."

Large pulled up a chair and turned it around, sitting down so the back of it was between his legs. I, on the other hand, stayed standing. In case of an attack, I could take off and lunge for this man sooner than he could get to his feet. That was figuring I could take him...

Large took something from his ear and tossed it to me. In a second I recognized it: my ear piece. "Put it in," he ordered.

The moment it was in my ear, I heard a familiar voice.

"How are you Lacey?"

"Lancaster?" I gasped.

"Of course it is. Listen, I've got a few things to tell you. I'll make it quick. Norton doesn't have much patience. First, there is a CHERUB campus in Britain. You are there now. It is where the organization originated. Second, you and Zeke were flown there because you didn't have time to get back to the States. Third, you are staying there for a few days until Smalls and I can get there."

"What?" I interrupted. "For how long?"

"Truth of the matter is, probably a while. It'd be better for you to interact with other CHERUB agents instead of just your five. You'll have to continue with your lessons, and just trust these men, understand? Smalls and I are handling up some business, and are considering pulling Sam out of his mission."

"Sam's on a mission? No way. You can't pull him out!"

"He's not in deep."

"That's his first mission by himself, no co-op. Don't pull him out, please. Transfer all his information to another mission controller. Please. He'll go insane if he gets pulled out now."

Lancaster paused. "I'll see what I can do," he said slowly, as though still thinking. "We need to keep this transmission brief. I'll talk to you later. Stay well, stay safe."

"Stay well."

I pocketed the ear piece and looked at Large. "All right," I smirked. "You have my attention."

Large picked something up from the floor, tossing a bundle of clothes to me. "Change. Callum will show you to your room."

"I can't stay with Zeke?"

"What for?" Large snickered. "He's out cold. Now get dressed."

He left the room, closing the blinds. I changed out of a pair of sweats I didn't remember putting on and into my green trousers, boots, and my black CHERUB tee, complete with the United States flag on the back.

"You ready?" Callum asked. He had politely turned around to let me dress.

"Let's go Brit." I nudged him playfully with my elbow. He took my hand and pulled me through the halls, leading me outside.

The moment I stepped out, I wanted to run and hide. Tiny little drops of rain splattered against my skin. Like the river… like the water as it splashed over me, drowning me, choking me, freezing me… "Hey," Callum said. "You okay?" I flinched again as raindrop landed on my nose. "Hey, come on. Let's run. We can get out of the rain faster. It's just that building over there."

I gave an uneasy smile. "Okay."

Callum and I began running, me a little slower. My limbs still felt heavy and awkward, so running was a real mess. One good thing did come out of it: Callum reached over and took my hand, and when we reached the building, he was reluctant to let go.

But I couldn't look soft. First impressions are everything. So I straightened my posture, held my chin high, and strode in like a true soldier.

We passed numerous kids, all in uniform, all openly staring. I stared straight ahead, not acknowledging any of them. I had to look confident, cocky even, if I didn't want to be messed with.

Callum stopped a few minutes later. "Um, here's your room. Your friend will take the one on your right. I'm just down the hall if you need anything. I have the, um, movies posters on my door if you, erm, need anything." He refused to meet my eyes.

I crossed my arms and smiled. "You were all confident on the plane with me. Why are you freaking out now?" The boy shrugged, rubbing his sneakers along the carpet. "That's not an answer Callum." He shrugged again. "I'm going to keep bugging you until you answer."

He grinned, raising his head. His cheeks were bright red. "That might not be such a bad thing," he said. "Catch you 'round, Yank."

"Late." I opened the door and stepped inside my new room.

Ah, home sweet home. The room was practically identical to mine back in the States. Same bed in the corner with the same alarm clock, same desk with same desk lamp… same pile of homework. There was a note on one of the textbooks.

I was told you had unfinished work back in your country. Lancaster had kindly asked me to make sure you received every supply needed in order to finish this homework. Good luck, have fun.

-Dr. Terence McAfferty, head offices of CHERUB

"Are you serious?"

( ( () ) )

There was a sharp knock on my door. "Come in," I said.

Callum poked his head in. "You've been in here for a few hours," he murmured. I swiveled in my chair.

"What? Have you been watching my door or something?" His face blushed bright red again. "Come in, why don't you? Take a seat!" Callum edged into the room, plopping down on my bed. My hands fiddled with a pencil as I talked. "Been doing homework. Got behind even before I went on that mission." I shook my head in awe. "God, that was something crazy huh? Like right out of a book."

Callum said nothing, instead focusing on me with his inquisitive eyes. "Here," he said, taking off his jacket. "You're shivering."

"Oh I really couldn't—" It landed on my head.

"Put it on girlie." It was already so warm… and maybe for only a minute… Callum started laughing when I smiled contentedly. "See? Warm." Callum paused again. In the moment of silence, my stomach growled, thundering across the room. "Why don't you come with me? Dinner's going to be ready soon. I can show you the way. And you don't even have to go outside in the rain!"  
>"You had me at dinner." Callum beamed as we left my room, walking down the hallway again, receiving numerous stares. This time, I nodded at them and kept walking, listening to Callum as he talked about the wonderful food the cafeteria could serve.<p>

The minute we stepped in the cafeteria, Callum began heading over to his table of friends. I didn't follow. All of his friends were sneaking peeks at me, and I just wanted some food, not socialization. Before I could look like an idiot standing alone, however, Zeke staggered from behind. "Hey Lacey," he groaned, holding onto me like I was his lifeline. "Cool jacket."

"Let's go find a seat Zeke," I said, helping him limp over to an empty table. "I'll go get us some food, yeah?"

I hurried to the counter, taking two trays, picking out entrees and returning back to Zeke before it became too crowded. I was about to dig in to my spaghetti when Zeke rapped my hand with his fork. "Ow," I cried. "What was that for?"  
>"We need to say grace."<p>

I rolled my eyes. I was about as religious and church-going as a demon, while Zeke could have been the Almighty himself. He prayed every day, before he went to bed, before he ate, went to a church every Sunday, and even made his team participate in his prayers whenever we were around. "You're kidding me."

"We say grace." Zeke reached over and took my hands. While he said the prayer, my mind concentrated on the food. God, how delicious that must be… Mm, the mashed potatoes looked scrumptious, and the meat was still sizzling… "Amen."

"Amen!" I added, yanking out of his grip and ravenously devouring my plate. I noticed that Zeke, for once, didn't have a thing to say about my bad table manners. We were both starving; our minds were too focused on eating to insult one another's habits.

I barely noticed when Callum came over, sliding next to me with his own tray. "You should slow down or all that's going to come back up."

Zeke and I both ignored him, instead eyeing each other's plates, shoveling food down even faster in order to beat the other.

He slammed his fork down on the table a millisecond before I did. "Dang it Zeke!" I cried. "I was going to win!"

"Yeah," my friend smirked. "But you didn't."

"Man, I had been training for that!" I sighed. "For the last three hours I had been vomiting all this water! My stomach was completely empty!"  
>"Now it's completely full," Callum muttered. I elbowed him sharply.<p>

"I don't think you've had the honor," I said to the two. "Zeke, this is Callum, the guy who saved me. Callum, this is Zeke, part of my team."

"And your boyfriend, right?"

Zeke and I loomed at each other before we both burst out laughing. "Zeke? And I? Ha!" That was a knee slapper.

The group of friends Callum had originally sat with rose from their seats and migrated over to our table, sitting down unceremoniously and eating like we've all been the best of friends for years. "What's so funny?" asked a Jamaican girl, who sat across from Callum.

"I just asked if they were dating!" said Callum. "Then they started laughing."

"He thought that we," I couldn't finish. Tears were streaming down my face, my stomach in spasms as I giggled.

"Why is that funny?"

Zeke wiped his eyes. "I'm not into girls," he said simply. "Not that Lacey's a bad specimen or anything, honestly. Love you Lacey."

"Gotta love ya Zeke." He threw his napkin at me.

"Wait," a blonde boy said, one that I recognized from the window in the infirmary. "You're gay? Bloody hell…"

"You got a problem with that?" I growled.

"We've got a friend that's gay," said the Jamaican girl. "James is still a little… undecided… on the topic."

"Cool it there Lace," Zeke said. "I don't need you to fight my battles for me." I threw his napkin back at him. "Anyways, who are you all?"

The Jamaican girl waved. "I'm Gabrielle."

The blonde boy nodded. "James. This is my sister Lauren." Beside him sat a younger blonde girl, maybe ten years old. She must've been Lauren.

I recognized the two other boys from the window: the Asian kid and the dark haired guy. As they walked up, Gabrielle said, "Yeah, that's Kyle. He's gay."

"Um, what?" said Kyle as he plopped down next to Zeke.

"Zeke's gay too."

Zeke hid his face in his hands. "I don't like to talk about it," he murmured. "Lacey? You want to help me get back to my room?"

"Sure thing buddy." And together we stumbled back down the hall.

**Thanks for reading! Please review **


	6. Chapter 6

**Bit of Callum Lacey fluff, will start to get into the plotline more in chapter seven **

Callum's POV

I woke up to the sound of soft moaning. I checked my alarm: 2:57 AM. At first, I yanked my duvet over my head and tried to drown it out, but the noise penetrated the sheet and attacked my ears.

I stumbled out of bed and into the hallway, listening to see what room it was coming from. I knocked on the door to my left, getting no response. Panic ran through me, and humiliation. What if I woke up the wrong person? That would be so embarrassing! Connor would never let it go if he found out.

Instead, no one came to the door. I opened it slightly, peeking inside. "Hello?" My voice was surprisingly quiet. My eyes danced around the room, seeing no posters on the walls, no pictures, only a desk filled with textbooks and bed with mussed up sheets.

The sound of retching bombarded my ears. "Hello?" I called again, slipping into the bedroom and softly shutting the door. I silently glided over to the bathroom, flicking on the light. Lacey weakly lifted her head to look at me, her eyes red and puffy, her face pale and sickly. She was leaning over the toilet bowl, lid up. "Do you need a medic?"

She shook her head. "They said I should expect to have nightmares. Well, they were right. Got so scared I started throwing up again." Her eyes widened and she leaned back over the toilet, her body shaking as she dry-heaved. "Nothing's coming out," she said. "It stopped getting messy a few hours ago."

"You've been at this for hours?" The girl nodded and folded back against the bathroom wall.

"I'm so tired." How she managed to smile was beyond me. I would have been so frustrated at that point.

"Come on, let's get you to bed." I reached down and helped Lacey stand up. She seemed fragile, like her legs were going to fold under her at any moment. Even when I held her I was afraid I was going to press too hard and leave bruises on her skin. "Easy now," I whispered as we reached her bed. She gingerly lowered herself onto the mattress. I brought the duvet to her chin, smoothing her silky hair from her face.

"Thank you," she murmured. "Callum." Lacey began coughing again, and I retrieved her trashcan and placed it by the side of her bed.

"Just in case," I said.

Her hand fluttered to one of mine, squeezing gently. "Thanks," she murmured again, closing her tired eyes. "You're very nice Callum."

"Thank you Lacey."

"I like it when you say my name," she smiled. "It sounds pretty."

"Pretty name for a pretty girl." I was surprised at how smooth that sounded; what was more surprising was that I meant it. Even when she was incredibly sick, something about her made my heart beat a little faster. She was average looking by most standards, but to me she looked unique. Her hair wasn't just blonde, it was moonlit gold. Her eyes weren't just blue, they were swirling orbs of the most beautiful ocean.

"You're sweet." She flashed a brilliant smile. "Especially when you blush."

"I'm not blushing!"

"Liar." Before I could argue, she closed her eyes. "I'm tired," she sighed.

"Then go to sleep. I'll be next door if you need anything." She nodded, burying her face into her bed sheet. I reached out a hand and hesitantly touched her cheek. "Good night Yank."

( ( () ) )

Lacey's POV

That day, I was tired, I was anxious, and I was lonely. Zeke couldn't go to lessons with me. Instead, he was stuck in his room, doing homework and watching TV. However, I still had to stick to my training schedule, even though I had almost died days before.

I was jogging to the dojo, my black gi flapping as I struggled to tie it together. I had only just finished putting on my black belt when I stepped inside.

A stern Japanese woman approached me. I bowed.

"Sensai, it is an honor."

This woman obviously didn't have the patience for formalities. She ripped right into teaching. "You go fight with blonde boy in corner." I was rather surprised her English was lacking. The woman pointed to a familiar face. Callum was drilling in a corner of the dojo, fighting an invisible enemy. I bowed to the teacher before making my way over to him, avoiding the sparring kids that dueled around me.

"Sup," I said. "Sensai told me you'd be my fighting partner."

Callum froze mid kick. "Really?" he beamed. "I'd love to. You really want to fight with me?"

"I'm not as weak as I've been portraying." I bowed to him respectfully. "You ready for this Brit?"

Callum took up a fighting stance. "Always Yank."

I attacked first, aiming low for his exposed belly. Callum twisted away and sent a sharp kick to my side, which I deflected with ease. Callum was pretty decent at fighting, but I was better. He knew fancy moves that he tried to hit me with, but in the end, fighting is fighting. Cut the fancy crap and just start throwing punches. In the end, that was how Callum was pinned to the mats, my smiling face an inch from his.

"Silly Brit," I giggled. "Cut all that fancy footwork out."

"I thought it was working fine!" he smiled.

"Yeah, and that's how you got pinned below me."

"That's not a bad thing." Cheeky blighter.

I jumped to my feet and hauled him upright. "You want a round two or you need a break?" I asked, adjusting my uniform again.

"Only if you don't go all aggro on me again." Callum gingerly touched his side. "I know I'm not the best fighter in the world but I thought I could at least take you." I raised an eyebrow.

"Oh really?" I growled.

"Yeah, 'cause you're tiny. Come on, let's try this again."

Behind me, footsteps ruffled along the mats. "Hold on," a voice called. "I want to watch!"

I turned around, grinning as Bruce and Gabrielle came jogging up. Behind them, James was struggling with his sister as they grappled on the floor. "Can she beat him?" I asked, nodding towards the two.

Bruce turned around. "Lauren? Eh, she wins a little more than half of them with James. She's small, so she can move faster."

I nodded. "You hear that Callum? She's small."

"Lay off Yank. Are we gonna do this or what?"

I held up my fists. "Ready when you are."

Callum leapt out of the way as I faked a knee to his groin, swiveling around with a clenched fist and aiming at my head. I ducked and jabbed at his side with my fingers, making him yelp.

Callum jumped and propelled himself behind me, wrapping one arm around my neck. Instantly I grabbed onto it and flipped him in front of me. Callum took both arms around my legs and pulled, sending me down with him.

He rolled on top of me and held both arms down. "Give up?" he breathed, his crafty eyes inspecting my face. I tried to move my arms, my legs, anything to buck him off, but nothing.

"Never," I grinned. "Hey Callum? You ever been kissed before?"

"You aren't going to distract me with stupid questions," he grinned. "I've got it all figured out."

"Really?" I slammed my head forward, crashing our mouths together. Callum's eyes widened, his arms faltering for only a moment. That was all I needed.

I twisted my arm free and hooked it around his neck, squeezing tightly as he clawed at my arm. "Tap out," I panted. "Tap out or I'll strangle you." Callum's hand reluctantly pounded on the mat. My arm slipped away, leaving him gasping for air.

I wiped my lips with the back of my hand.

"Don't get cocky," I snickered. "Need a hand up Brit?" Callum accepted it and I helped the boy to his feet. He looked stunned.

"Mate, she got you good!" Bruce cackled.

"Oi, you ever been kissed before?" Gabrille jibed, holding her stomach. "You should see the look on your face! Callum, ah-ha-ha-ha-ha!"

His face was blushing again.

I loved it.

Callum's POV

My lips tingled, and electricity spiked through my spine. Every nerve was on fire, and my head was high in the clouds.

Everyone was laughing, but God, that felt amazing. I didn't care that I just got my arse whipped—twice—from a girl. I just got kissed by the mysterious USA girl. No one else here could say that.

Beautiful. Connor was gonna go barmy when he told him! Some dishy girl went up and kissed him, just like that! Bleeding hell…

"You okay there Callum?" Lacey asked, suddenly worried. "You look out of it. Did I hit you too hard or something?"

"No," I said, smiling a moment later. "No, everything's peachy. Did that really just happen?"

"What? You taking a fancy to her?" Bruce chimed in. "I want to fight her next if she's just giving them out!"

I shoved him away. "No girl's gonna give you the time of day Bruce. Get lost."

"Lacey!"

Lacey turned around, her face lighting up with a grin. "Arif! Techno!" She ran to a pair of boys, both wearing black CHERUB shirts. The three collided in a community chest bump, then Lacey was picked up by the Indian boy. "How are you?" she cried. "I've missed you both!"

"Us?" the Indian boy said. "You nearly died!"

"How'd you survive?" added the red head. "Smalls was all upset when he came back to campus to get us!"

Lacey glanced over at me, pointing. "That boy there saved me guys. Go and say hi."

Next thing I knew the two boys were racing towards me, tackling me to the ground with a bunch of "thank-yous" and "you're awesomes" ringing in my ears.

"Heel boys," I heard Lacey say. "Let's not smother him, yeah?" Red Head and the Indian boy reluctantly got off and embraced the girl again. "You guys see Zeke?"

"He's healing up," agreed Red Head. "You should be in bed. You're shivering!"

Lacey shrugged them off. "Side effect. Anyway, guys, I want you to meet some people." The boys looked at me. "That's Callum—he has a twin brother, Connor—over there is Lauren and James—siblings—Gabrielle and Bruce. Everyone, this is Arif," she motioned to the Indian Boy, "and Techno." She pointed to Red Head. "American agents."

Everyone shook hands with the agents, before they both picked Lacey up and ran off with her.

James staged up to me, panting. "Eh mate, did I just hear this right? Bruce said the girl kissed ya."

I licked my lips at the memory. "Sure did."

"You take a fancy to her mate? If I were you I'd try to get with her."

I shoved James off. "Don't be daft. She wouldn't give me the time of day." I wiped one hand through my sweaty hair. "I'm bunking off. See you guys later."

Instead of going immediately to the shower, I changed clothes and headed over to the track. It felt weird not having Connor right by my side—truth was, I missed him, a lot—because we did everything together. He was my fighting partner and we ran together, even had the same timetable too. He was my other half.

As I ran, I noticed the three Americans were out along the field. Someone that looked an awful lot like Large was with them, ordering them to run through the obstacle course. I watched them whenever I was facing their direction on the track, letting their agony distract me from my own pain.

One step, step, step, breathe, step, step, step, exhale. Mac had said I was good at long distance—Connor too, of course—and I owed it all to my own personal technique. But as I was running, I kept losing pace, going too fast or too slow. Thanks to the Americans, I was getting distracted, and by the end of my laps, I was fighting a nasty stitch in my side and a fire burning up my lungs.

But it was worth it if I was watching her.

Connor was going to be so jealous.

**Review please!**


	7. Chapter 7

**This chapter is a bit shorter than the others, but still good, I think.**

**Thanks for all the reviews!**

**Diamondsgirl101-for being a loyal reader **

**Purposely Anonymous… Wow. Well, I got to say, if you read this, I never specified what religion Zeke was, check me if I'm wrong. I'm not taking a side in the homosexuality debate, and trust me, I'm not trying to drag religion into this. I'm agnostic, I love peace. Please don't say negative things about people. I thought you were to 'love thy brother' or was it 'love thy neighbor…' Thanks again for all your… 'wisdom?' 'Opinion?' Final word is, if you don't like what I wrote, don't read it, don't flame it. Got it? Good. End of discussion.**

**Now that that's over with, *sigh of relief* onto the chapter! Hope everyone likes it!**

Lacey's POV

So I kissed Callum. Big deal. Zeke, Arif, Techno, and Sam have kissed me numerous times when we had fought. It was supposed to surprise your opponent enough to overwhelm them and gain the advantage. It had been Zeke's technique—he had kissed Arif for the first time about a year ago. Then he started doing it to everyone, so the method passed on.

A few days had passed since I had arrived at the British campus. I was healing up nicely, as was Zeke. However, while Zeke was out of commission for training, I wasn't.

"Alright ladies!" Smalls roared. He had come with Arif and Techno, and to say the least, I was overjoyed when I saw him. However, as he worked us out on the field, I had more than a tinge of hate in my heart. "You now the drill! Let's go, go, go!"

Arif, Techno, and I groaned, while Zeke cackled in the distance. Arif immediately went into a handstand. I jumped and propelled myself onto his feet, then flipping into a handstand. His feet supported my hands.

Next came Techno. Now, Techno is probably one of the best hackers you will ever meet, but athletically… he could use some steroids.

This was one of the most difficult exercises for us. We were stacked on top of each other in handstands, our arms shaking with holding ourselves up, our legs aching from supporting your teammate. Typically, Arif lost his balance after two minutes, and we all would go tumbling to the ground. Sure enough, after roughly two minutes, Arif fell, sending us all back to Earth.

A few Brits were laughing nearby, but I did my best to ignore them. Besides, I was aching all over and my head was pounding.

"Get up!" Smalls bellowed. "Get up now! I don't want any slacking!"

"You've worked us!" Arif protested. "First all those rounds on the obstacle course, now this!"  
>Smalls yanked Arif to his feet. "Any more lip and I'll send make you do all this again! Every last one of you! Go crawl under the wire—I swear if I catch up to one of you I'll—!"<p>

We were running for the course before he could finish.

Arif was the first to dive down under the wire, but I was right on his heels. Techno, however, got his shirt caught on one of the barbs and was madly scrabbling at the ground as Smalls roared and closed in.

Smalls must've watered down the dirt because we were sloshing through mud, careful to move fast and to avoid the barbs an inch over our heads.

The training session lasted three hours, all after our classes for the day. After muscle building workouts, we were permitted to leave, but only after giving Smalls a high-five. "No hard feelings ladies?" he snickered as we lined up and slapped hands.

"Yeah," we all grumbled bitterly before slowly trudging back to the locker rooms.

We were all quiet for a minute, catching our breath, before Techno piped up, "Who wants to go for a swim? I hear the pools are nice here."

We all cheered. I didn't think about it then, about the water, about the cold, about the roiling waves above me as I crashed in or how my lungs burned when I couldn't breathe… But it all came rushing back to me when I stood at the pool's edge, my toes edging the shelf. A kid splashed into the water, only a few feet from me. I flinched when a few drops splattered against my skin.

I retreated to a lounge chair. Zeke was already sprawled on one, his stuff dumped on the floor. Arif and Techno were busy shrugging off their shirts, swim trunks hanging low about their waists. Then, they both dove into the water, as graceful as any dolphin.

A smelly sock hit me from behind. "Aren't you going in?" Zeke said. "I would shove you in, but," he motioned to his bandaged side and smiled ruefully.

"I guess I'm just not feeling it," I said truthfully, fidgeting nervously with my shirt's edge. "I'm a little… apprehensive… about water."

"Oh, god Lace I'm sorry."

I shook my head. "Don't worry 'bout it. You just heal up nicely, okay?"

A burst of laughter caught my attention, and I turned to watch as Callum and his friends entered the room. Apparently James had said something funny, because everyone was bent over, snorting and cackling hard.

Bruce glanced over and nudged Callum with his arm, nodding over to me. I nodded back when they both turned to look, and took a seat next to Zeke.

It was peaceful, sitting by the poolside, listening to the splashing water. I closed my eyes tiredly and relaxed, letting the calm splashing ease me into a sort of slumber.

Until I was thrown to my feet. "Get in!" Arif grinned. "The water's fine!"

"But I still have my clothes on!"

"Then take them off! You have your swimsuit on underneath, right?"

"I'm not taking it off," I grumbled, pushing back against him as we neared the water.

"Yeah, Arif, just let her go dude," Zeke called. "Really Arif—"

"Just chill man, I got this!" He scooped me up in his arms. I clawed at him, my eyes wide. No no no no no no no. Not again. Not again. Please, dear God not again.

"Arif, don't!" But it was too late. Zeke couldn't save me. I was already arcing through the air, a scream erupting from my throat. At first, my body pounded through the water, creating a hole, but then crests crashed down onto my face. Which way was up? Which was down? How would I get out? A mad torrent of bubbles block my view, the chlorine stinging my eyes. The water burned as it forced itself down my throat.

Granted, I wasn't in the water for very long, but it felt like an eternity. I began kicking and reaching for the edge like a wild animal, pulling myself back onto dry land, firm land, solid land.

I couldn't get enough air. I panted like a dog, clawing my way farther from the pool, scrambling to my feet and rushing towards the door.

Two arms stopped me. They wrapped around my waist and pulled me back. At first, I had stupidly thought it was the water dragging me back in, but that was just my fear talking. "It's okay!" Callum was yelling. "I got you! Lacey, you're fine, you're fine!"

I thrashed around in his arms. Callum pulled me closer, spinning me around before cradling me against his chest. "Sh," he whispered. "It's okay. I got you. I got you."

"Let go!" I sobbed. "Let go let go let go!"

Zeke was trying to me from him, but I wouldn't let go, and neither would he. Arif and Techno stayed back, hanging their heads and toeing the ground guiltily.

"Lacey, you okay?" Zeke asked, resorting to just placing a hand on my back.

"Let go," I repeated, over and over again. "I want to go!"

Callum and Zeke locked eyes. "Alright," Callum said. "Let's go." In one smooth move he had grabbed my legs and had me bundled in his arms. Quickly he shoved past his friends and hurried to my room, where he set me down and waited for Zeke to catch up. "Go in and get yourself dry," he whispered, wiping a stray tear from my cheek with the pad of his thumb.

"I'm scared," I whispered, wrapping my arms around him in a crushing hug.

"I'll be right outside the door. I'll come right in if I need to save you. Mate, I promise."

* * *

><p>Callum's POV<p>

Lacey was busy changing into a pair of sweats when Mac came in. He, and an older man, knocked on the door. "Come in," I said, thinking it was one of the Yanks. I was currently lounging in Lacey's desk chair, playing around with a spare piece of paper and folding it into different air planes. When Mac came in, I froze and stared at him, gaping like a fish.

"Hey, um, Mac," I said. "How are you?"

"Not too well, I'm afraid," the Scot admitted.

"Lacey's in the bathroom," I said. "You'll have to wait."

"That's quite alright my dear boy. I was looking for you as well."

I swallowed nervously. Me? Oh bloody hell, he was going to make me finish my punishment, wasn't he? "Well, how can I help you?"

"We need you to collaborate on a mission."

My jaw dropped. "Seriously?" I smiled. "All right, I'm in! Man, Connor's gonna be so jealous!"

Mac motioned to the older man with him. The first thing I noticed were his bushy grey eyebrows. "This is Andrew Lancaster. He'll be your mission controller, if you accept. We'll need you and Miss Lliate to follow him once she comes out for the mission briefing.

I nodded, and worriedly glanced at the bathroom door, still shut. She had been in there for an awful long time…

"I'll wait for you in the hall," Lancaster said, and left with Mac in tow.

I jumped out of my seat and hurried to the bathroom door. I reached for the handle. "Lacey I need to tal—" The door opened swiftly. Lacey stared at me, her eyes fierce and determined, her head held high. "Whoa," I said. She was perfectly poised, her eyes not even hinting at her breakdown at the pool. No redness, no puffiness, just pure determination.

"Mission," she smirked. "I heard. Let's go; you don't want to keep Lancaster waiting."

As she moved to pass me, I held her fast by the wrist. "Wait, Lacey, are you okay?"

She shook her head. "Doesn't matter. I've got a duty to protect my country and yours, and I'm not going to give that up all because of some stupid drop of water. Now come on!"

I got to hand it to those Americans. While they may not seem like the smartest bunch, they sure are loyal…

**Not much of a cliffhanger, I know, but bear with me please! Thanks for all the reviews, everyone!**


	8. Chapter 8

**I know it's shorter, and I haven't posted. Sorry, and I hope you enjoy!**

Lacey's POV

**CLASSIFIED**

MISSION BRIEFING FOR LACEY LLIATE

DO NOT COPY OR MAKE NOTES

THIS BRIEFING IS SECURED WITH A RADIO IDENTIFICATION TAG. ANY ATTEMPT TO REMOVE IT FROM THE BUILDING WILL ALERT CHERUB OFFICIALS.

(1) The Louvre Museum, Paris, France

Originally constructed as the fortress for Philippe Auguste in 1190, this building was to be one of the largest fortresses in the world. Over the next few centuries, the fortress continued to be remodeled and extended, up until 1699, when the Louvre was used for the revealing of artwork to the public. In modern day Paris, this building is now home to 6000 European paintings, all dating back to the 13th to 19th century. Along with its paintings presented, its inventory consists of nearly 130 000 drawings and prints.

(2) The King's Men

What had originally been a theatre group—in which notable playwright William Shakespeare had produced many of his plays—spiraled out of control, taking on a twist that may have come from one of Shakespeare's very plays. A band of amateur thieves had begun operating under the once respected name, stealing items ranging from gum packs to laptop computers, always leaving a calling card. 'What typically feats may triumph over man, the King's Men will do. Fear not, mere mortals, the gods have brought their hand in fate.'

With their increasing crime rate and record, authorities have begun to believe they may be the perpetrators behind numerous missing art pieces from multiple museums around the globe.

(3) Juliano "Caesar" Pallistrani

Pallistrani was born in a small town close to Italy. From a small child, he had always been the misfit of the family. He had two older brothers and three younger sisters, making him the lost middle child. From an early age Pallistrani had begun tagging and shoplifting, all in what authorities believe was a ploy to gain attention. However, around the age of fifteen, his records show he had vanished, simply dropped off the face of the Earth.

In 2004, one year after Pallistrani had supposedly vanished, authorities recovered a single follicle of hair from a theft at a Bueno Buy. DNA analysis concluded that it belonged to Juliano Pallistrani.

Officials now believe that Pallistrani had begun the King's Men, and is one of the leaders, hence his nickname of "Caesar," one of the most notable, if not insane, leaders of the Roman Empire.

(4) Why CHERUB?

Pallistrani is extremely paranoid and distrustful. Adults make him on edge, and MI5 see no chance of infiltrating the King's Men ranks. Agents will be portrayed as brother and sister. In order to gain Pallistrani's attention, they will steal a portrait from the Louvre and await contact. Any information linking Pallistrani and the King's Men will be used to prosecute them in a court of law.

NOTE: ON THE 1st DAY OF OCTOBER 2007 THIS MISSION WAS PASSED BY THE CHERUB ETHICS COMMITTEE BY A 3:2 VOTE, ON THE CONDITION THAT ALL AGENTS UNDERSTAND THE FOLLOWING:

This mission has been considered MEDIUM RISK. Run-ins with local police may result in detainment. If so detained, agent is to give false information and will await release. If the mission persists, agent may/may not return to the mission. All agents are reminded of their right to refuse to undertake this mission and to withdraw from it at any time.

I snickered as I closed the briefing. "You sure this rating's accurate Lancaster? My last one was low risk, and we both know what happened there."

"You have your right to refuse this mission," the mission controller said sternly. "If you are uncom—"

"And what? Get sent on recruitment missions for the rest of my career? No thank you. I'm in Lancaster."

"So am I," nodded Callum, who was sitting beside me. "When do we leave?"

"In four hours. You will fly to Paris and will set up your cover as students abroad. You are siblings, yet Callum, you took up school in Britain, Lacey, you in America. This is the perfect opportunity for you to practice your French dear." I groaned and slapped my hand onto my forehead in despair.

"Oh non, vous avez a me faire marcher. C'est terrible!" I moaned.

"Look on the bright side," Lancaster smiled. "At least you are getting to go to Paris, and study art, no less!" I glared at the old man.

"What are our names?" Callum piped up. "I understand the conditions, but where are we to stay, who are we to be, and how the bloody hell are we supposed to steal from the Louvre?"

"We have people on the inside. You'll get everything you need once you arrive. You shall explore the city, get to know the local police stations, streets near the Louvre, etc."

I smiled. That sounded good.

From the corner of my eye, I saw Callum, and he looked anything but happy.

* * *

><p>Callum's POV<p>

I said good bye to all my friends at the end of the briefing, then rushed into a mad rush of packing. In two hours, I had crammed all my stuff in my bags, and dragged it into Lacey's room.

She was neatly folding her clothes, piling them carefully into one small suitcase. It was a light yellow, white flowers painted all over as though they were growing from its bottom. It suited her perfectly.

Her face was adorable, her eyes squinted as she concentrated on the task at hand. Music was blaring, a slow number… It sounded familiar, the clinking of piano keys, the pace picking up suddenly. "You listen to classical music?"

She looked up, a little surprised. "Beethoven calms me down," she admitted, blushing. "It keeps me psyched."

"This is uh, that Fur Alice one right?"

She giggled and placed a pair of socks in the suitcase. "Fur Elise," Lacey corrected. Her eyes drifted to my own case that was bulging from the seams. "Your suitcase suits you," she smirked.

"Hey!" I protested. "I worked hard on this!"

"Yeah, I could hear you stomping around in your room. We have an hour to kill. Let me see it."

"Um, no, that's fine."

"Let me fix it, else it'll cost more money to put on the flight. You're not evenly dispersing the weight." She took the handle from my hands and carried it to her bed, undoing the clamps. My clothes nearly exploded out.

In no time she was instructing me how to fold. She did most of the work though; I was pure rubbish at it. The only things I did fold were my underwear—I refused to let her touch that. She started laughing at me when I tore all of them away and crammed them into my pack. When we were done, my luggage was _way_ lighter.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"No," I lied. Truth was, I was bummed. I was going to be in the Paris, the city of love, with the girl of my dreams, and I wasn't allowed to hold her hand or anything. What a life.

Lacey plopped onto her bed with a sigh. "Tell me what's on your mind Callum."

"It's just," I shifted nervously. God, she looked so pretty today, even in her still wet hair, and her flushed cheeks. Even in sweatpants, she looked like a goddess on a bed, which was a major plus.

"Um, thanks," Lacey said, her crystal blue eyes wide.

Shit. Shit. Shit. "Did I just say all that out loud?"

"Uh, yeah you did." Lacey smiled brilliantly, swinging her legs in the air. "It was sweet of you to say."

"And one of the corniest things I've ever heard!" chimed a voice behind me. I whirled around just as a flying body tackled me to the ground. "How's it going mate?" Connor chimed. "Wooing all the ladies I hear!"

"Yeah, got a kiss an' everything!" I boasted, rolling around on Lacey's floor. "Why'd you take so long getting home?"

"Large made me fill out all this paperwork about what happened with your drowned beauty over there. Now I hear she's going on a mission! Sure she's strong enough for a big job like that?"

In my head I could imagine Lacey frowning. When we stopped wrestling and I looked at her, I was right. She was back to packing, slamming my suitcase shut roughly, yanking it from the bed and placing it on the ground hard. She resumed packing her own suitcase, finishing up the details, and then began working on a carry-on for the flight.

"I have all the money and the hotel reservations," she scowled at me, not even bothering to step over us as she reached for her iPod. She wrapped up the headphones and shoved it in her backpack, then followed it all with a book and a purse. "When we get on the plane, don't say anything to make yourself look stupid, got it Callum? That means you keep your mouth shut."

I slugged Connor on the shoulder. "Mate, she'll kick my arse if you don't apologize. Do it for me!"

Connor glanced sheepishly at her. "Sorry love," he laughed. "Hate to think such a dainty thing is fragile!"

Lacey's mouth set in a grim line, her eyes darkening, her hands curling into fists. "Its not arse, you moron. It's ass. Until you know how to address a lady, you get out of my room Brit!"

"Lacey, wait," I said, but she had already grabbed Connor's shirt and began lifting him towards the door. With a swift kick to the backside, she send him sprawling in the hallway.

"Get your stuff," she hissed. "We're heading to Mac's, now."

Lacey swung her backpack over her shoulders, took her suitcase in hand, and swiftly walked out. I scrambled to my feet and followed, tugging on my suitcase, nearly dragging it down the hall as I tried to catch up.

After meeting Mac for the departure, Lancaster having already left, Lacey and I headed into the van driving us to the airport. "Why so sad Callum?" he asked me, sickeningly happy. "You know, first few days in Paris you're going to be nobodies." Mac winked at me, the lines around his eyes crinkling, softening his already kind face.

"Yeah, perfect time for her to kill me," I muttered sourly. "Connor pissed her off now I get to be the bad guy."

Mac chuckled to himself. "Ah yes, nothing lasts more than a woman's scorn. You'd do well to remember that."

I rolled my eyes. Some plane ride this will be.

**Review please! And thank you for those who added me to their Story Alert! It made my day! **


	9. Chapter 9

A wave of turbulence crashed through the airplane cabin, shaking the cup of water on the tray in front of me. My hands gripped the armrests, knuckles white, and I squeezed my eyes shut. _Oh god oh god oh god oh god, please don't let this plane crash. Oh god, please, please, please._

"You seem a little shaken," Callum smirked beside me. He seemed perfectly at ease, lounging in his economy class seat.

"Shut up," I hissed, wincing as the cabin was jostled again.

The intercom overhead pinged to life. "Attention folks, this is your captain speaking. It appears we may be facing some slight turbulence." _Nah, ya think?_ "This is nothing to worry about. Please enjoy the rest of your trip. Thank you."

The cabin shook again, this time accompanied with a roar similar to thunder. I whimpered, gripping the armrests tighter. "God how much longer can it go on?"

"For a while sweetheart," Callum said. "Calm down, I'm only jostling you."

"It's joshing," I said through gritted teeth.

"I know. It was punny."

"Yeah, it's so funny I forgot to laugh," I said. "Just think, only a few sheets of metal are keeping us from falling to the ground!"

Turbulence struck once again. I felt tears sting my eyes, and no matter how hard I clamped them shut, a tear still slid down my cheek. I felt Callum shift beside me, and he gently pried my fingers from the armrests. "Don't cry," he whispered, raising the armrest and pulling me towards him.

"I'm not crying," I said, even as he wiped the tear from my skin.

"Okay, you're not crying." I could imagine him smiling as his arms wrapped around my body.

"I'm just scared," I explained. "And I'm still mad at you."

"Me? It was Connor's fault!"

"Don't twins share a mind? Then you were thinking the same thing!"

Callum stiffened. "I'm not Connor. We're different. I would never say something like that. Connor can be an immature moron sometimes." Callum sighed and rested his head on mine. "But I still love him."

I raised my eyebrows. "You always say that. I know a few siblings, and they never admit they love their brothers or sisters."

"Connor and I have been through a lot, okay?" He didn't say another word, and I didn't push him. Everyone has secrets. Of course, I would eventually weed it out of him, but that would happen later, when he was ready to talk.

After all, I had a dark side too.

The turbulence came to pass, yet I didn't trust the sky enough to let go of Callum. Although I must have been squeezing him to death, the Brit didn't seem to mind. He refused to relinquish his grip, and held my hand tightly.

"Get some rest," he murmured.

"I'll never be able to sleep in this." One of his hands played with a strand of my hair. I swatted it away. "I told you I'm still mad."

"So? I'm not doing anything!"

"You're making me forgive you!"

"Good; I already said sorry. It wasn't even my fault!"

I rolled my eyes. "Do you want me to hate you again?"

Callum hugged me tighter. "No." He was quiet, absentmindedly staring off into the distance. "I'm not going to be able to hug you," he sighed, "once we touch down and the mission starts."

"The mission officially won't start until a few days. You heard Mac."

"Yeah, I know… Still."

I squeezed his hand gently, and he squeezed back, just a little harder.

Something about that British boy made me smile, I just had to admit.

Turns out, I was able to sleep after all. Callum's shoulder was surprisingly comfortable, and with nothing else to do but watch a sappy romantic comedy, I quickly dozed off.

Callum shook me awake, nudging my side insistently. When I first opened my eyes, the fluorescent lights above me seemed too bright. On the TV screen, mounted above several rows in front of me, a map of the airplane to Paris was displayed, a digital clock ticking down the time until our arrival. One hour and two minutes left.

I moaned. "Why'd you wake me up? We have another hour before—" I stopped as I turned to face Callum. A stewardess was in the seat next to him, maybe twenty-two, but definitely young looking. _And beautiful_, I noted, which angered me a little bit. She had long brown hair, dark eyes to match, all dressed up in a tight blazer and short skirt. She was talking to Callum, twirling a lock of her hair in her manicured fingers.

She didn't even seem to notice I was awake until I yawned loudly, stretching my arms. "Oh, hey," Callum greeted nonchalantly, though his eyes were pleading for me to help him. "Nice of you to wake up."

"Yeah," I said. "Guess it was time. Anyways, who's your friend there Callum?"

The stewardess outstretched her hand. "Janet," she smiled.

"You're very pretty Janet."

The girl tilted her head. "Aw, thanks."

I patted Callum's shoulder and grinned, leaning over him as though to whisper a secret. "Look at how he's looking at ya; smitten as can be, I tell ya. Single to boot."

Callum glared, and he looked like he wanted to kill me. I smiled sweetly in return and popped in my ear buds, decided to jam out to my music for the rest of the trip.

* * *

><p>Callum's POV<p>

I hate her, the stewardess I mean, not Lacey. Never Lacey, not after Connor screwed that up for me. Lacey was devious, but I sort of deserved it.

But God, Janet could _talk_. She was nonstop! From what her favorite shoes were (stiletto heels) to her favorite color (purple) to even what her number was (from out of nowhere she pulled out a Sharpie and wrote it on my arm). I tried to be nice and polite, but she wouldn't get the message that I was _not_ interested. Several times I made sure she could see both my and Lacey's hands intertwined, but nope, Janet was completely oblivious. Did I look older than I was? Because she was twenty something, and I was still studying to officially get my license. Technically, my alias for the mission, Callum Blake, was licensed, but Callum Reilly was not.

When we landed, I nearly ran out of the plane, but Janet stopped me. "I'll be working all day," she said seductively. "Next trip leaves for London at four thirty. Gate 3A." She gave me a peck on the cheek before scurrying back to the stewardess' alcove.

When I glanced at Lacey for any reaction, I got none. None! She was jamming out to her music, thumping her fingers against the handrail of the hallway that extended out to the plane. As we walked, Lacey wrapped up her iPod ear buds and shoved the device in her pocket. A smile was plastered on her face, and I couldn't help but wonder how no one else fell in love with her. She was so sweet, so innocent…

"Paris," Lacey declared at last. "Paris, maintenant nous rencontrer enfin!"

"Um, what?"

Lacey grinned at me as we stepped through our gate and into the bustling airport. Most of the signs were in French; I knew a little, but I was definitely going to have a tough time without Lacey. "It means 'Paris, now we finally meet!'" She whirled about on her heel, laughing and taking in the sight of the airport. "Callum, I'm in Paris!"

I crossed my arms and smiled. "Yeah," I said slowly. "Did you take your meds today?"

Lacey either didn't hear me, or just ignored the jibe. "I've always wanted to go here! And London, and Switzerland, and Germany, and Rome… Rome! Yes, I want to go to Rome too, and Greece, maybe Athens…" Lacey stopped herself and pointed at the sign above us. In three different languages, it said WELCOME TO PARIS, FRANCE. "But I'm in Paris! I love this!"

"We haven't even been here for five minutes."

"I know!" Lacey took my hand and led me onward. "So Callum, guess what?"  
>"What?"<p>

"I've got a question. Does French bread taste better here than in another country?" My eyebrows raised.

"That's a silly question," I remarked. "But I guess it does. We'll just have to find out. Oh, and they probably don't call it French bread. Maybe just bread?" Lacey nodded seriously.

"I want to experience as much of Paris as possible!" She tugged me past the shops and cafes, towards the exit. "Come on! There's no time to waste!"

**Reviews Welcome!**


	10. Chapter 10

(Callum's POV)

Lacey had dragged me down to some shops after we arrived at our apartment complex. It was rundown, which is what you would expect of two students abroad. We could hear rats scuttling in the walls around us, squeaking and clawing out holes in the drywall. I nearly lost it when one of the rodents—the meanest looking by far, with half a whisker missing, a hole in one ear, and a good chunk of its ear gone—ran over my sneaker and back into its cave under the bed.

Lacey frowned at the bed. "You know how many bugs are probably on that?" she spat disgustedly.

"That's what we get for staying at this dump—it's like one of your Super Fate's in the States."

"Super 8," she corrected, "and I don't think they're _this_ bad. At least they change the sheets once a week. Here it's like… once a year." Lacey glanced around the room, seeing nothing but a work desk, a banged up lamp in one corner, and a sofa and old television in another.

"Dibs on the sofa," I called, plopping down on the couch, immediately regretting it as an unknown liquid soaked through my tracksuit bottoms.

Lacey smirked at me, then walked over to the work desk. She sat on the top, testing if it would hold her weight, and smiling. "This is my bed," she declared.

"Fine, but don't come moaning to me about having a stiff body in the morning."

"At least I won't be covered in bed bugs and rat urine."

I stuck my tongue out and quickly changed out of my sopping shorts.

* * *

><p>I was walking with Lacey through the Louvre a few days later. We had both been antsy to begin with, but after a few sleepless nights in the <em>Hotel de Rats<em>, we were aggravated, irritated, and more than a little impatient to begin this thing.

We were in a tour group, obnoxious tourists gawking and taking pictures at every little thing they saw, ignoring the poor bloke employed to be the guide. As we wandered through the expansive halls, Lacey would say some random fact about a painting, or about an artifact. Turns out, she knew a lot of random things, like how the artist created this paint stroke, how the technique of this was done by who and where and when… Okay, at first it had been a little annoying, I won't lie, but now… it had grown on me. It was another part of who she was, another mannerism she wasn't aware of. It was these things that drew me in closer, that made my heart go wild and my head spin at the thought of being with her, forever. Of hugging her. Of kissing her. Of making her laugh and smile. Of just being with her… in more ways than one.

God, if I had said that aloud, she would've slapped me. But honestly, I'm a guy… At this age, my libido's a beast. If there was any chance she agree, I'd tell her everything, try to do everything…

Lacey hit my side playfully. "You paying attention?" she asked. "We've got a reason to be here."

At first I was confused, and then I realized: I was supposed to be taking as many pictures as possible, all of the security cameras and their locations.

"Sorry," I mumbled, quickly snapping shots of everything.

I didn't think she would notice if I took a few pictures of her. She was a perfect model, not strikingly beautiful, but more quietly pretty. Her face said it all—pensive, serene, happy. There was one of her staring at the Mona Lisa, perhaps contemplating why the woman was smiling, like every other observer before her. Although I was told not to by the tour guide, I had managed to capture a snapshot of that: two beautiful young ladies smiling for God knows why.

The tour lasted around an hour, with all the tourists going back out the main entrance. Lacey seemed a little sad to be leaving, but quickly plastered a smile on her face. However, it quickly faded. "I didn't get any pictures of you," she sighed. "How will people know you've been here?"

"Don't worry about it," I said. "They'll just have to believe me."

"But I—"

"Let it be," I said. "Don't worry; I took a bunch of you."

Lacey rolled her eyes. "But none of yourself."

I shrugged and we headed back to the apartment.

Phase One: complete.

* * *

><p>Phase Two was harder. It took more planning, as in, several all nighters worth of planning. First we had to construct a model of the Louvre, and then add in all the security measures, find the angles of the camera lenses, figure out the most effective way to get inside, to get out, and five back-up routes. Lancaster had set us up with inside connections—who, he wouldn't say, but it was a reliable source. All of their information checked out.<p>

Lacey was the one to begin supplying us. She had backpacks ready, filled with maps, fake ids, passports, money, and textbooks, all so if we were stopped and searched, we would match our student abroad cover well enough to avoid suspicion. However, inside a hidden pouch, were a small box of matches, a candle, and a glass cutter. That was all Lacey claimed we needed for the mission to be a success.

Later that day, we both took a light nap, although we both didn't sleep very well. The stupid rats were getting bolder, and would scurry out the room once it was quiet, nibbling on our shoes and clothes. After a gourmet dinner of microwaveable ramen and Coca-Cola, we suited up.

Black spandex covered by sweats, and a black hoodie shoved in my backpack for when we arrived at the museum. Lacey was dressed in dark jeans and a jacket, a black beanie on her head, her bright blue eyes bright and alive.

"You ready Callum?" she smiled, zipping up her backpack and slinging it over her shoulders.

"I guess," I shrugged. "I'm just… nervous. It all seems a bit sketch to me." Lacey giggled, and I could feel heat rush to my face. "What's so funny?"

"The way you say that sounds weird," she giggled again. "Sketch," her voice was low, an awful British accent marring the world.

"I don't sound like that!" I laughed, stepping close and grabbing her.

"Yeah you do! Admit it!"

I buried my face in her hair, smelling the perfume of her strawberry shampoo, trying to hide my foolish grin. "Say I don't," I said. "Say I don't talk like that and I'll let you go."

"Who says I want you to?" We both froze, and I could feel Lacey tense in my arms. "I-I mean that, you know, that um, I guess I feel safe with… with you."

Every word caught in my throat, making what came out of my mouth to be an unintelligible squeal. Lacey stepped away, her face red, stumbling to get her pack and open the apartment door. "Wait," I said, but she was already outside, slipping down the hall. I grabbed my backpack and ran after, locking the door behind me.

(())

Traveling through Paris at night was, in a sense, a horrifying experience. It was dark, and once we had left the quaint areas with bright little shops and entered the darkness of the back alleys, all sense of safety was gone.

Lacey got us to the museum in no time. She read the French road signs easy enough, and always stopped when I was falling behind, but never looked at me directly. I think she was still a little embarrassed.

The American girl was quite adept at sneaking around, I must say. After we arrived, we tugged on our dark clothing and packed the rest in our packs. Our entry point was a window, and from the ledge Lacey took the glass cutter and sliced along the edges. Very carefully, she caught the glass as it fell out, and stuck her head inside. "Coast's clear," she whispered to me. "Get in."

I had to slide past her to scramble inside, plopping down silently, watching in awe as she slid in beside me. "Now what?" I asked. Lacey put a finger to her lips, spun me around, and reached inside my bag, pulling out a little baggie. I never recalled packing it, but Lacey had known exactly where it was.

She pulled out a square of plastic wrap, handed me the pane of glass, and pressed the wrap into the gap in the wall, trimming the plastic to size, and gently placing the glass onto it.

"There," she declared. "If we need to make a quick getaway, just push out the pane, and climb over."

I nodded. "Are we ready?"

"Let's go."

It's easier than one would think to infiltrate a museum, albeit with inside help. The confusing twists and turns didn't affect us; we had a map. We knew where every security camera and trigger was, and we knew when their lenses would turn away from us and scan somewhere else, giving us just enough time to sneak down the next corridor.

We didn't travel far from the window. Our target was just a few feet away, lying on a pedestal, vulnerable. Our inside source had deactivated the pressure plate, and had taken off the bulletproof casing around it. The glass container was on the ground beside it, ready for us to put back in its place.

The artifact was small, but worth a ton of money. It was a simple key, a locket as the handle, and I honestly couldn't tell what the big deal was about it. Lacey, however, was enthralled.

"It's beautiful," she smiled, gingerly picking it up, tucking it inside a velvet box. She kept the lid open, admiring its rusted exterior, tracing the design on the neck with her finger.

It just looked like a key to me, with a string attached. I snorted; this was what we were stealing? This is what we were risking detainment and abuse for? Pathetic.

"For something this risky, we should have been stealing the Mona Lisa," I grumbled. "What's so special about a stupid key?"

Lacey gasped, her brow furrowed as if I had insulted _her_. "This is a priceless necklace worn by Queen Elizabeth during her coronation! Do you know how precious this is? I have a piece of history in my hands!"

I rolled my eyes, then smirked. "Oh, so now you're looking at me again?"

Lacey blushed furiously, angrily looking away. "I was just caught up in the moment," she argued, stowing the necklace in her bag. I bent down and grabbed the glass box, carefully putting it on the square pedestal.

"Oh, wait, we forgot the weight."

"The weight?"

"Yeah, to imitate the key when the trigger plate gets activated in…" I glanced at my wrist watch. "… Five minutes." Lacey nodded. "And about earlier? Don't worry; I'm an expert at seduction."

The girl rolled her beautiful eyes and sighed. "Just shut up and get going Casanova."

**I know it's shorter—I'm losing interest in this. :( Oh no… But you know what to do! Read, review, love.**


	11. Chapter 11

**I know, I know, took a long time to post this. No excuses, but I hope you enjoy :)**

(Lacey's POV)

The next day, as evening fell, Callum and I were on our crummy couch, glued to the TV in front of us. A news reporter was on the screen, the headline under her reading: Artefact volé du musée du Louvre. La police incapables dedéterminer le point d'entrée du voleur.

"Artifact stolen from Louvre Museum," I read aloud, just so my teammate would understand. "Police unable to find thieff's entry point."

"I guess you did know what you were doing," Callum snickered. "You proved me wrong."

"Of course I knew what I was doing," I smiled, flicking to a different channel. There was an old fashioned movie playing, and I left in on since it was in English and Callum was hopelessly lost with the art of French language. "I'm an American; we always have a plan."

"No, Americans always have a plan that usually falls through and there's no safety net."

I frowned. "Come on; can you stop bagging on the States? You don't hear me spouting insults about England every five seconds."

Callum's brow furrowed. "I don't do it that often," he protested.

"Not just you; your friends and your brother. It's all so _aggravating_." I shook my head. I didn't want to talk about this now. "Let's just be ready for when the King's Men come for us."

"That's a good idea," Callum nodded. "Prolly any minute now they'll come busting down the door." Callum and I stood up and began to move the furniture around the room, out of the way of the door. If there was any sort of fight, we would want the home advantage.

Just as we moved the last bits of furniture out of the way, we both heard a tiny click come from the front door. Callum nodded at me, and took up a position on the couch, reading a few blueprints. I hurried to a small table, one that we had been using as a kitchen. On it were a few boxes of pizza, some left over dumplings from the Chinese restaurant we had gone a few days earlier, and today's entrée, a loaf of bread spread with Nutella.

"So we should try to head out tomorrow morning if we want to catch the afternoon train," Callum began saying, trying to act at ease. "Does that sound good to you?"

"Sure does," I nodded. "Next time, I get to pick what we take. Who wants a stupid key?"

"It's a necklace, and some investors would love to have it for their collection!" Callum shook his head, shuffling through his papers while I continued to make us sandwiches. I could sense the intruders now, slowly opening the door and shuffling into the room from down the hall. "Well, I need to use the head. Be back in a sec." Callum stood up, acting completely oblivious before he spun around, facing the intruders. He looked up, eyes wide. "Get the bloody hell out of here!" he growled, curling his hands into fists.

"Get him!" A thickly accented voice rang through the air, and a mob of men rushed forward, grabbing at his arms as they tried to grab him. I let a scream rip from my lips, raising an octave when two men grabbed me to cover my mouth. I kicked at them and put up a good fight, but for the sake of the mission, I let them overwhelm and hold me back.

It was silent save for our grunts. The men were quiet as a final member strode into the room, slick dress shoes on his feet, crisp slacks and a pressed button down adorning the rest of him. His black hair was slicked back, revealing the tan young face that lie beneath.

"Who are you?" Callum sneered, but a swift punch to the gut sent him to his knees.

"I can't say I'm really surprised," the young man said. His black eyes lingered on me as he surveyed the scene. "This was mediocre for a pair like you. Mere children." He sighed, as though this pained him.

I took a closer look, recognizing him from my briefing. He was none other than Juliano "Caesar" Pallistrani. The young leader put a hand behind his back, reached under his shirt, and pulled out a black handgun.

Callum and I locked eyes. This was expected, but we didn't like where this was going.

"I was told that originally, you would be instructed to bring back a portrait." Caesar spun around, an amused smile on his lips. "And no painting. I have a source, you see, a very important little source. He tries too hard, he really does. Just to be liked… brilliant boy, just too stupid for his own good." Caesar grinned at his gun, stroking it as one might a loved family pet. "But he caught my eye, or ear, rather. He said that you two had potential to ruin my entire career. A career I worked hard for." The grin was forced now, and he stared at us with complete hatred. "He said that you two would be instructed to bring a different item. A certain necklace, I am told. If you have it, you two are indeed spies and not the real deal." Caesar snapped his fingers, and two of the men detached from us and began sifting around.

I could hear my blood pounding in my ears. Callum was now fighting, struggling with his captors as he tried to break free. This wasn't apart of the plan. Someone told Caesar about us.

They betrayed the mission.

And we were going to pay dearly for it.

I focused on my handlers' grips. They didn't think much about me—I didn't look muscular, and I never put up much of a struggle. But their grips were too strong for me to break, and with me in front of them, it was hopeless to break out of before that gun went off.

So I did the most common action I could think of for a damsel in distress: I started to cry.

I had better get a Tony for the performance. It worked beautifully. The moment I began to howl—deep, wailing cries, not some baby tears—and tremble, my legs giving out on me, the men loosened their grips, eventually having just one man hold my arm. "P-Please!" I begged. "D-Don't hurt us! We, we—" And I let out another huge sob, tears running down my face.

"Found it Caesar!" The velvet bag I had so carefully packed the artifact in was ripped form its hiding place of on the bookshelf and tossed over to the youth, who opened it up and dumped the necklace into his hand.

"Beautiful," he said, then barked off a chain of commands in rapid-fire Italian. The men backed off as he cocked his gun and aimed it at my head.

_Good bye Arif, Techno, Sam and Zeke. I'll miss you guys._

"Now!" I yelled, lunging forward, shoving the man's arm up and to the side. A shot ran through the air, the gun an inch next to my ear, shocking my eardrum into oblivion. I pulled Caesar forward, snatching the necklace from his hand, shoving him into his henchmen. Callum had already incapacitated two of them, and was working on a third when I pulled him away. We started sprinting, leaping from the second story balcony, coming off at a roll, and dashing down the street.

Callum was on my right, and only a foot away, yet I didn't hear him when he told me to turn left into a side street until he barreled into me. We both skidded to the ground, but he yanked me upright and we continued, hearing the angry yells of the King's Men as they chased after us.

Callum ran ahead, leading the way. I had no idea how he knew where we were going, but I decided to trust him. Currently he was running and talking on a cell phone, most likely talking to Lancaster. I glanced behind. The King's Men were right on our heels, a few bullets ricocheting off the brick walls around us, shrapnel flying in the air. I tossed a few trash cans behind us as we ran, hoping to slow them down as we lost ourselves in the maze of buildings.

"He's meeting us," Callum called over his shoulder.

"Where?"

"At the corner of La Rouge and Le Tuviree. Do you know where that is?"

I shut my eyes, thinking back to the street maps I had studied. I knew where the streets met, but I had no idea where we currently were. "I can get us there if I figure out where we are now."

Callum nodded, guiding us out of the alleys and onto _Me Amie_. From there, I took over. "We're two blocks away," I panted.

In reality, it actually was longer than two blocks. We had to swerve into different streets to avoid giving our pursuers a good shot at us, and in the end, it was down to either one block sprinting, or weave another and maybe die along the way. My legs were killing, and the King's Men were surprisingly good shape. They were testing the boundaries of even our CHERUB fitness regime.

I took a chance, and just kept going straight. Callum obediently followed.

"There he is!" Callum panted, coming up on my left. "He's flashing his light—" Callum stumbled, crying out as he nearly fell forward. I grabbed his hand in time and towed him along.

"We're almost there; don't slow down!"

Gunshots rang in the air, one even hitting the bumper of the crappy SUV as we approached the getaway vehicle. A door opened, and Callum and I dove inside as the wheels came alive. "Go, go, go!" Callum yelled, falling on top of me as the door slammed shut. A bullet pierced the rear window, burying into the passenger headrest.

Oh please, please let us get out safe.

(Callum's POV)

My shoulder was on fire.

One of the bullets had grazed my shoulder, and blood was flowing freely onto my sleeve. I did my best to bite down the pain as I covered Lacey, ready to catch any bullets that may come her way.

I could hear the driver curse as we sped away from the King's Men. Wind from a broken window tousled my hair and bit at my clothes, shards of glass pressing into my arms. Underneath me, Lacey was stiff, her arms grabbing at my chest as though her grasp alone was keeping me in place.

When the yelling stopped and the bullets ceased flying did we dare sit up, peering at the blurry buildings around us as we sped passed. "I think we're out of the thick of it," said the driver, and just now did I get a good look at him.

My heart jumped.

"Lacey get out!" I said, shoving her towards the door. Neither of us had seen him before. He had a mouthful of shiny braces, a dusting of shorn orange hair, and bright blue eyes, and currently he was peering over his shoulder at us.

"No, no! I'm cool, I'm cool! Lancaster sent me!"

"Prove it," Lacey growled. My hand was on her wrist, and I could feel her pulse racing. It was scary, knowing she was frightened, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

"Here." The goofy young man held out his mobile, pressing a number on the dial keys and handing it to her. Lacey held it up to her ear, waited a moment, and smiled. "Hey Lancaster. Yeah, we're okay." Lacey's eyes flickered onto me. "A little banged up but we're okay—oh my god, Callum, you're shot. Oh my god. Oh my god." She shoved the phone back to Carrot Top and slid over to me. "Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?" I flinched when she reached over to my left sleeve and tugged it up.

"We just got in the car," I said. "What did you want? A full body scan the second we got in?" The girl's cheeks blushed, and she looked down, busying herself with the task of ripping the edge of her shirt off. I sighed, raising my good arm and cupping her cheek, tilting her head to lock eyes. "Don't worry," I smirked. "I'd scan yours anytime."

"You're so cheeky," she laughed lightly, yet her eyes were still serious. I winced when she dabbed at my wound, clearing away some of the blood. "It's not that bad. You were grazed."

My fingers played with the hair dangling in her face, twisting it into curls. "I kinda figured that. But _hell_, it stings!" Lacey turned her head away from me, pressing onto my wound to stop the blood flow. Eventually she tied it around my bicep, and leaned back to examine her handiwork.

"All better," she whispered before turning around to talk to Carrot Top. "Where are we going?"

"To our headquarters. Me and a few of my mates—we're assistant mission controllers, you know—set up a place where we could keep an eye on you two and be in the area if you needed help. Lancaster'll be there. They just sent me to pick you up since I was already out and about.

"You'll be examined by a few doctors, so just hang in there Callum. You're in good hands, alright?"

"Yeah," I said. "Sounds good."

"How did this happen?" Lacey piped up. "They said they had an inside source. Someone tipped them off."

Carrot Top was silent. He rubbed a hand through his natty hair and sighed. "What did Caesar say, exactly?"

"He said that a boy had only clued him in. Said we were spies and he had proof. We were supposed to steal a portrait—that's what it said in the briefing—but last minute it changed to a necklace. Since we had the necklace, Caesar knew that boy was telling the truth." Lacey's hands were clamped into fists. "Who would do something like that? We were almost killed!"

"Lace, calm down…"

"If that bullet had been an inch more, it would have shot you through the chest Callum." Her eyes bore into mine, anger blazing inside them. "So don't tell me to calm down Callum!"

The SUV came to a gradual stop and we both got out. Around us was a large hotel, ritzy by the looks of it. Instead of getting to see all its grandeur inside the lobby, Carrot Top led us to a fire exit and gave us directions to the room, as he needed to go stash the car before a nosy guest spotted it. Quickly, Lacey and I hurried up to the designated hotel room and knocked on the door.

Lucky for us, all the other guests were asleep, and the hall was vacant. Lacey stood on my left, ready to hide my bleeding arm if anyone surprised us.

The door opened immediately after we knocked. Immediately we were pulled into the room and shoved into the waiting arms of medical personnel. I let them pull me onto a wheelie chair as they began to tend to my gunshot, yelping when they poured antiseptic on it and began to stitch it up.

I caught glimpses of Lacey throughout the process. She was in a chair similar to mine, her hands clamped against the armrests. The doctors seemed to be poking around her head, towards her right ear, and my first thought was to go over to her and hold her hand.

Lancaster came over to me once I was all bandaged up. "I take it you understand what happened?"

"Who would do this?" I asked. "Someone betrayed us. Someone knew this could kill us Lancaster!" Lancaster handed me a tissue. I hadn't even realized I was tearing up.

"We will talk more when we're back on campus. Tomorrow morning you're being evacuated out of here by private jet, but for now, you and Lacey should get some rest. You're shaken up, I get it. Its not every day a mission… turns."

I nodded and wearily stood up, staggering over to Lacey, who the doctors had just finished attending. She was wearing what looked like ear muffs over her ears, and from the look on her face, she hated them. "Why are you wearing those?" I asked, taking her hand and leading her to the adjoining hotel room. There, I closed the door and the room was flooded in darkness.

"What?" she said loudly.

"Why are you wearing those?"

"These?" She pointed to the muffs.

I nodded and put a finger to my lips. "You need to be quieter."

"Oh." Her voice was softer now. "Sorry. Apparently when the gun went off it blasted one of my eardrums. It's just ringing, and its real loud. Doc said I had to keep these things on so it would heal. So no loud noises."

"I hope you feel better," I said. "Come on, let's go to bed." The two of us blindly felt our way to the luxurious hotel bed and sank underneath its covers. As I was about to shut my eyes and drift asleep, I felt Lacey's hand wrap around my own.

**Read, review, love!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey all! This chapter is a more personal look at the twins' bond, seeing as it needed to be… reinforced? Strengthened? Either way, I hope you enjoy :)**

(Callum's POV)

Lacey and I were walking side by side across the helicopter tarmac. A chopper had just dropped us off, along with Lancaster and his mission controllers. Her soft hand was wrapped around mine, fingers pressing gently as we walked, like they had been throughout the flight. She still hadn't gotten used to air travel, but that was fine by me. It was a reason to hang around her. And, I was her guide for the moment, seeing as she wasn't able to hear much, and thus needed help wandering around.

A few of our friends were gathered at the end of the runway. I could just glimpse their grey and navy shirts inside one of the dormitory buildings, way off in the distance.

Connor was the first to come running up to me, but I couldn't hug him. One arm was occupied with holding Lacey's hand, and the other was held in a sling. It didn't matter anyway; Connor wrapped both arms around my chest and squeezed. "Callum!" he yelled, making Lacey cringe. "Congrats on the mission bro!"

"It was a failure," I spat.

It was only now that Connor noticed my sling. "What happened—" He was cut off by a roar of voices as my mates came charging towards us. James, Kerry, Lauren, Arif, Techno, Zeke… Lacey was swept into Zeke's arms as her team all kissed her on her cheeks and welcomed her. They didn't notice her earmuffs, hidden by her dangling honey hair.

"Lacey!" Sam came barreling out, Bruce trailing behind. He plowed into her, a huge grin on his face. I peered at Lacey, and saw that she was smiling, holding out her arms to receive the lad.

My hand felt cold without hers, but my heart swelled at seeing her so happy, especially after the last couple of shaky nights we had encountered. Connor elbowed me, motioning to follow him. I held out a finger in pause and wandered over to Lacey. "Connor and I need to talk. You okay?" I whispered in her ear.

"Zeke already knows," she said back, so softly only I could hear. "He'll take care of me."

I nodded, gave her a kiss on the cheek, and left, beaming when her eyes lit up and a giggle escaped her lips.

Connor led me through the dormitory halls and to my room, shutting the door behind us.

"What's up?" I asked, plopping onto my bed, relishing the feel of the sheets. There was something about relaxing on a bed instead of a chewed up couch that rats loved to run in and out of throughout the night, and it was _my _bed. It was, in a sense, comforting. "How've you been bro?"

"You like her."

My eyes remained close, but my heart stopped. "What do you mean? Lacey?"

"No, Kerry. Who else you idiot?"

"What's it to you?"

Connor fidgeted, pulling out my desk chair and collapsing into it. "Callum, quit being a twit. We're brothers—twins, for that matter. We share the same mind. I can _tell_ you like her. A lot."

"I don't know what you want me to say," I said. "What? Do you not like her?"

"Dude, of course I do. She's fit." I grabbed my pillow and chucked it at him. Connor only smiled and threw it back. "Oh, possessive are we?"

"You should actually get to know her for who she is rather than how hot she is."

"But dude, she's _fit_. That's all you need."

"For a one night stand, not a relationship."

Connor fist pumped the air. "Ha! You admit it! You and her, a little snogging, maybe a shag here and ther—!"

"I'm serious Connor, don't say stuff like that."

"Touch_y_, but fine." He paused. "Does that mean I get Gabrielle?"

I laughed. "Sure. She's all yours."

"Sweet. Alright, now I have one more question: what happened to your arm?"

I rolled my eyes. "Let's just say I got a little more action than I bargained for. You're gonna be so jealous…"

(Lacey's POV)

Lancaster had already filled Zeke in before we arrived back to campus. It was rather thoughtful of him, seeing as I would need help from more than Callum to keep me aware and functioning.

Zeke led me to his room, and I reclined in his desk chair while he perched on the edge of his mattress. "How are you feeling?" he said softly.

"Tired," I replied. "My head hurts, and my ear is still ringing."

"I haven't told the others yet. Would you like me to?"

I nodded. "That would be best. Give me a little time though—they'll come barging in with questions regardless of my ears."

Zeke nodded, twiddling his thumbs as he collapsed back onto his bed.

"So I need to ask you something," I said as I glanced over his desk top, shifting through all his research papers. "How have you been? People been treating you well?"

"Most of the Brits have been nice to me. Made a good couple of mates here."

"This is, what? Gonna be your last year? Man, isn't that a kick."

"I'm gonna miss it, that's for sure." Zeke eyed me for a moment, and when my hand reached a certain stack of papers, he blushed and said, "Oh, not those. Lacey, don't read those."  
>"Why?" I grinned, unfolding one of the papers.<p>

"Lacey, don't!" Zeke lunged towards me and tried to rip the note from my hand. We were too busy fighting to realize someone had entered the room.

"Hey Zeke. We still on for to—" Kyle froze in his tracks when he saw me, and a blush crept onto his cheeks. "Oh, uh, hey Lacey. Didn't know you were back."

I peeked out at the boy from under Zeke's arm. "Hey Kyle."  
>"Uh tonight?" Zeke asked, pausing a moment before his eyes widened. "Oh right! Can't wait. See you then."<p>

Relief spread on Kyle's face. "Cool. See ya."

As Kyle departed, I fought Zeke for the paper, but he ripped it away. "What's tonight?"

"We're just playing paintball," he said. "Now I should get ready, so I'm kicking you out."

"Really? You're kicking me out?"

"Yeah, I am." He placed a kiss on my head, then shoved me outside.

"I hope he shoots you in the arse!" I smirked. "Have fun boy-o!"

"Ah, Miss Lliate, just whom I was searching for." I spun around to find Mac standing in the hall. My face flushed with embarrassment. Mac winked at me. "Quite a mouth on you."  
>I blushed again. "Sorry sir," I said. "Got a bit carried away."<p>

"No worries my dear. If you would follow me, I and your Lancaster wish to discuss your latest mission and discuss its faults, as it would seem."

"Yes sir. Right away sir."

(Callum's POV)

Lacey and I sat in the corner of the room, feeling extremely uncomfortable. For the past hour, Zara Asker, Lancaster, and Mac had been arguing what the best course of action would be for the safety of CHERUB.

We hadn't gotten a say in the matter; we just sat in the corner and watched.

"We cannot call back every recruit!" Zara exploded, pounding her fist on the table. "That would jeopardize the missions that took _months_ to prepare for, not to mention toss years of surveillance down the drain."

"You're right," Mac agreed. "But sacrifices must be made. Our agents' safety is the priority. We don't know how much has been exposed."

I cleared my throat. "Caesar mentioned that whoever tipped him off only wanted to please him, and no others."

"Ah, yes, thank you Callum, but in future, please keep your mouth shut. These are delicate matters." I eyed Mac angrily.

"I think I understand this just as well as you. Bloody hell, I was _there_ when Caesar rattled off his little scheme! He admitted that the person was a boy, giving away the approximate age range: eleven to fourteen, seeing as cherubs are only given top missions such as these at the age of eleven—for proper amounts of experience beforehand—and fourteen for most agents above that look and are men, due to their high level of fitness."

Lancaster stood up straighter, giving me a friendly smile. He reminded me of a long last grandfather, or maybe an odd uncle. I was glad he was in this meeting with me. "Impressive, boy-o."  
>"Thank you, sir."<p>

Lacey raised her hand. Zara nodded at her, and she began to speak. "What does this mean?" she asked, a little too loud. "How do we find out the traitor?"

That struck a chord with me. One of the many students on campus was a liar, and had stabbed every single member of CHERUB in the back.

"We can eliminate every person out on a mission," Lacey continued, "except those in France and Britain, as well as Italy."

"That still leaves us with some two-hundred agents, excluding all females," I countered.

"Take out the staff, that leaves us with one-hundred-and-fifty boys, narrow it down to the age limit, and that will probably leave 90 or so, red shirts not counted."

Mac eyed us, a glint of pride in his eyes. "Good work. Both of you will need to keep an eye out for any suspicious activity, and please, keep this fully disclosed. No slip-ups you two, understand?"

Lacey and I nodded. Our mission wasn't over yet; we had to find the rat.

((()))

(still Callum's POV)

After three days of listening to Lacey yell at me because of her ear muffs, she was able to get them taken off by the doctors, and I was able to downgrade my sling to a full on arm cast. So of course, to celebrate Lacey's newfound sense of hearing, I decided to take her to Kyle's party tonight, full of—as Connor puts it—"blasting music, dishy girls, and lots of beer."

She danced with a few of her mates, hanging with Kerry and Lauren as they arrived, and I hung back with James and Bruce, watching as they checked out the other girls.

James leaned over to me. "You see any pieces worth taking?"

I grinned. "I got my eye on a sweet one."  
>"Dude, point her out!"<p>

"I'm not going to let you dance with her, you twit. She's mine!"

James opened his mouth. "Are you serious? Come on man, help us out."

I shoved him lightly and left, sifting through the grinding teens until I reached Lacey. I put my good hand on her waist, leaning forward to whisper in her ear. "Having a good time?"

The American girl spun around, a borrowed dress spinning around her, making her look like the center of a flower. "Callum!" Her smile brightened considerably, I noted.

"Care to dance?"

"Prince Charming now, eh?"

"I just thought I'd try my best to chat up with the fittest girl in the room."

Kerry smacked my shoulder. "You bugger! You've got plenty of other girls here!"

"Yeah, but none of you caught my eye."

"You're being a git. What? Do you fancy her?"

"Bug off Kerry. What if I do? She's a real keeper!"

Lacey blushed, burying her face in my shoulder, continuing to sway side to side. Kerry sighed and walked off, probably to go find James and make him dance with her. They had quite an odd relationship—one minute they were acting all cute-like and almost confessing their obvious attraction, the next they were at each other's throats.

"Have you had any beer to drink?" Lacey asked suddenly.

I looked down at her face, her eyes shining bright. "Only a can or two. Why?"

"I don't think you know what you're saying."

"What? I think I'm fine!"

Lacey glanced around, noticing how more and more people were leaving the party, surely heading to their rooms to go to bed. "I think it's time you went to sleep."

"But I—"

"Come on." Lacey took my hand and led me through the halls, both of us silent as we tried to avoid alerting any staff members we were out past curfew.

Lacey passed her own room and continued to mine, stopping in front of the door to open it. She pulled me inside, helping to lower me on my bed. "I don't need help," I argued.

"You're hammered. Callum, your breath reeks and you're stumbling."

"Am not!"

"Yeah, you are." She knelt on the ground, taking off my shoes and socks for me before taking off the tie I strung around my neck. I had a mini fridge in the corner, and she fetched a bottle of water from it, forcing me to take a sip. "Alright, lay down now Callum. You've got loads of work to do tomorrow—homework and the mission."

"I don't want to sleep," I said, actually hearing my words slur together.

"Come on; put your head on the pillow…" She tried to shove me down, but I caught her wrists and held them firm. "Callum, please. You're acting like a child."

"I'm not going to sleep in my clothes!"

Lacey rolled her eyes but helped me pull my shirt over my head and off my cast. "You can do your pants yourself; I am not helping you with that."

"They're called trousers, not pants."

"You crazy Brits."

I gasped dramatically, placing my good hand on my chest. "That hurts Lace, it really does."

"Be a man Callum."

I raised an eyebrow. "Fine." I placed my hand on the back of her head and leaned forward, smashing my lips against hers. In hindsight, it probably wasn't the most romantic first kiss I could have given her, seeing as I was drunk, probably out of mind, and smelled like a barkeep.

I pulled back, wondering how she would react.

Her cheeks were slightly flushed, her crystalline eyes opened in surprise, lips slightly out and ajar. I smiled, leaning forward to steal another. "Callum!" she argued, jerking away just as our lips brushed. Lacey hurried to the door, pausing to turn back to me. "You're drunk."

"And you're pretty. Are we listing the obvious now?"

Lacey wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "I was trying to be nice, but I will not be some one-night stand of yours when you're out of your mind. I hope you have a terrible hangover tomorrow."

And although I would feel her wrath tomorrow, I fell asleep content. I had just kissed the beautiful American twice. Twice!

Wait until Connor hears this.

((()))

(Lacey's POV)

I was still angry when I stormed past Techno's door, noting that it was still open. I paused, wondering if he had merely went to bed forgetting to close it.

"I'll just go check on him," I said quietly, motivating myself to step up to the door.

Techno was at his desk, typing furiously on his computer. I knocked, and Techno jumped with a start, slamming the lid of his laptop down. "What is it Lacey?" he snapped, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

"It's two in the morning. Get some sleep Techno. We've got training tomorrow."

"I'm busy."

"Yeah? With what?"

"None of your business. Mission stuff. Bye Lacey." Techno turned away from me, saying not a word as he waited for me to leave.

I stepped out and closed the door, a little stunned. Did Techno just snap at me? Really?

I growled. This was not my day.

**Thanks for reading!**


	13. Chapter 13

(Lacey's POV)

"You ready?" Zeke asked the team, adjusting his helmet. We were all in the back of a van, Lancaster driving, getting suited up for a major game of paintball.

"Just about," I replied, staying still as Arif tightened the strap to my breastplate.

"Alright team," Smalls called from the front. "This is big. You're going to be up against James Adams, Bruce Norris, Kyle Blueman, Callum Reilly, and Connor Reilly. I want you to hit them hard and come out on top. After 24 hours, the simulation will be over."  
>"How do we know who loses?" Sam piped up.<p>

"You each have six eggs. Whichever team has the most amount of eggs intact will have won. Now, you have to be smart. Don't underestimate them, and don't forget that just because your have guns doesn't mean you can't use your hands. Hit them hard, okay? We need to show these Brits that Americans will always come out on top!"  
>"But Smalls, you're British."<p>

"Do you want to run punishment laps Sam?"

Sam buried his face in his hands. "No sir! I'm sorry sir!" he said.

Smalls smiled, his mustache tips upturning. "Good. Now, don't disappoint me. You're going up against my brother's agents, and you better not blow this. Do you hear me? If we lose to Large's runts, what does that make us? Do you understand?"

"Sir yes sir!" we all cried.

"Good, now get out of my van!" The five of us ran out, plopping onto the ground and marching in precise movements, very professional, just as Smalls would want.

We stopped in front of the line of British agents, legs out, hands folded and by our waists, guns leaning against our trousers. We looked straight ahead, not even acknowledging our opponents.

Smalls and Lancaster got out of the van and approached, eyeing Instructor Large with amusement. "You ready to get drilled Norman?" Smalls chided.

"My operatives will crush yours under their boots, Arthur."

Large turned around, reaching down into a large black case, lifting out cartons of eggs for everyone to take. We packed them in our bags, perfectly synchronized. "Look at them," Bruce whispered to James. "They're like bloody robots."

"We'll crush 'em mate, don't get your pants in a twist!"

"I'm just saying!"

Callum elbowed Bruce. "Lacey's pissed at me for some reason," Callum said. "She has that look in her eye, you know, that you can tell she's pissed."

I allowed my mouth to twitch at that one, briefly becoming a small smirk.

"I don't think it's fair we have a cripple!" Connor blurted. "I mean, come on Callum, you can barely lift your arm to your shoulder!"

"Gee, thanks for singling me out," Callum hissed. "Lacey has a hard time hearing. I'd say we're quite equal on the matter! And I don't even have a cast anymore!"

"Fine, but if we lose it's your fault."

"Hey!" Large snapped. "Quiet, you two. Now, operatives, the ammunition you have been given is military grade training stock. Similar to rubber bullets, yet they will hurt more, and splatter paint. Basically, it will simulate like you have been shot. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir!"

"Good. You each get fifteen minutes to prepare before the battle begins. Twenty four hours is the duration, starting… now."

My team all put on their helmets and we began to sprint off into the trees around us, heading for the nearest block of buildings.

Zeke immediately took charge. "Alright, here's the plan. We ditch our eggs. We never stray too far from them, else that'd be breaking the rules. Hide them in different places, but in the same vicinity. We're five minutes in, almost upon the building. I want you all to disperse, scour the buildings for anything useful and report back. We'll snipe them off one by one."

We emerged upon the structures, looking like a deserted city, cars parked on the street, signs advertising products, and paint splatters, both new and old, branding previous skirmishes.

Zeke pointed out a cluster of buildings. All were tall, at least second storied, with low surroundings ones. "See that bakery? We make the top level our home base. Lacey, you'll get on the roof and snipe from there. Sam, I want you in a building opposite the street with easy access for you to move around. Snipe from there, cause panic, split them apart. Techno, Arif, and I will be ground level, going in for the kill. Sound good? Everyone, break!"

I hurried to the nearest building—a bank, the sign read—and ruffled through, finding a black bag. I didn't look inside; I took it, threw it over my shoulder, and ran to the next.

Ten minutes later a bell signaled the start of the game. I waved to my teammates. Zeke shoved a pair of night vision goggles in my hand—he probably found it in one of the buildings—and sent me on my way.

I was three stories up, and had a miraculous view of the arena. It expanded for miles, groupings of buildings and trees simulating a city.

The Brits were going down.

((()))

(Callum's POV)

James was the leader of our group, and we all groaned. Now, James is a good mate and all, and he's smart as a whip, but Lauren had told me how he had ran away from a battle after being scared out of his wits and didn't want to get shot again.

You could say I was less than thrilled to be on his team.

"This training exercise is going to be a piece of cake," Connor giggled beside me.

"I don't know," I said. "Lacey looked pretty ticked off."

"Yeah, and she's a girl. Also, an American, and everyone knows Americans live cushy lives, unlike the Brits!" Bruce and him high-fived while I shook my head.

"They wouldn't like to be called that. They work hard."

"Oh, quit being a buzz kill, will ya?"

I looked to James, who just shrugged, and then to Kyle who patted my back before tracing an invisible x on the back with his finger. "I'm fine with it," he smiled. "She'll be gunning for you and not us."

"Hey!"

"Sorry mate, but it's true." Kyle fiddled with his rifle, playing with the trigger. "So, James, what's the plan for us? You gonna run off like you did last time?"

"Shut up Kyle," James spat. "It was a strategic move."

Kyle held his hands up in surrender. "Fine. What's the plan?"

James shrugged. "We just go out and shoot them."

"Really? That's your plan? I knew I should have been the leader!"

James clenched his fists. "If you have a better idea then spit it out!"

"We wait and take cover you twit. They'll come after us and we have the advantage."

"The bell already rung guys," I said. "Knowing Lacey, she would have established a home base. She likes a plan. That idea's probably taken."

"Which leaves us the offense," noted Bruce, nodding and raising his weapon. "Let's go hunting then!"

We started running to where we last saw the recruits, James shoving Kyle before sprinting ahead. "My plan's working out isn't it?" he gloated.

"Shut up James!"

((()))

(Lacey's POV)

It was down to a waiting game. A half hour after the bell had rung, we had still seen no action. Being the only two teams competing was exciting at first, but now… it was getting to be incredibly boring. I was even considering shooting near Arif's hiding spot to see his reaction.

Finally, I caught a glimpse of one of the boys making their careful way down the street, still a hundred meters away. Zooming in with my goggles, I saw him checking into buildings and harvesting the treasures inside.

To my delight, he didn't check what was inside them as he exited. My team had emptied our bags of any contents after ten minutes of waiting, then filled them with rocks before placing them back inside their buildings, just so they wouldn't know we had been there, or were nearby.

This was going to be fun.

Zeke waved his hand at me, and I saw it from the corner of my eye. He, too, was outfitted with goggles. I waved my hand and pointed to the approaching enemy. Zeke gave me a thumbs up; he had seen him too.

I scanned the rest of the area, but no boy had made an appearance. Soon, the only opponent was only twenty feet away. I looked to Zeke for the OK to shoot, but he shook his head. Slowly, he, Arif, and Techno had begun to slink towards the lone boy, getting pretty close, as the boy couldn't see in the dark.

He was quickly dispatched by a punch to the temple by Arif, a shot never even fired. The three boys dragged their victim to a nearby building, taking a few moments to most likely incapacitate him, steal his ammo, crush his eggs, and break his gun.

They came rushing back into place with huge smiles on their faces.

Sam and I continued to survey the land, a tense five minutes of gruesome waiting. Finally, after what seemed like ages, the four remaining boys began to stalk the street, slipping in between buildings, the guns raised all macho-like.

Too bad they were about to get smashed.

The boys said not a word as they began walking in the middle of our hideout, seemingly eager to be rid of the tall buildings surrounding them.

I landed the first shot, right at the top of Kyle's pack. Kyle jumped in the air and began firing at me, but Sam began to shoot at him and he was forced to stop and take cover.

I almost hit James as he dove behind a truck, and I heard a resounding boom when one of our bullets hit Connor in the belly as he ran.

I smiled at that one, sending out another shot for good measure.

"Where's Bruce?" one of the boys cried.

"They must've taken him!" I heard Callum yell back.

Callum. He was around here somewhere. Time for revenge.

I chanced a peek over the edge of the roof, eyeing the boys' hiding spots, reserving my shots. The Brits were too busy defending themselves to notice me anyway.

Let's see… Connor was by the door to the hot dog shop, Bruce was still unconscious, James was still behind the truck, and Kyle… I think, wait, yes! Kyle was lying on the ground, his suit splattered with numerous paint stains.

He wasn't going anyway soon.

But Callum had eluded us. Somehow, he had disappeared before the shooting began. I was about to wave at Sam for guidance, but I heard a sharp cry from Arif, and the thud of a paintball hitting home.

Through my goggles I could see Arif, now lying on the ground, his gun destroyed by his side and his eggs smashed on his head, yoke dripping down his face.

I began firing at James so Zeke could turn around and face the new terror that was Callum. However, the boy had disappeared again, and now Zeke was getting agitated. I saw him shout something, but couldn't hear over the fire.

Sam and I continued to shoot the opponents, and I took a moment to wonder where Techno was. I had yet to see him, but I didn't worry. He wasn't a coward; he would come out of nowhere with some calculated plan. I was sure of it.

Sam caught my attention, and he motioned downward. I nodded and headed down the building level by level, shooting whenever I reached a window. Sam and I traded off movements, so one of us was always shooting the Brits.

By the time I was at ground level, Zeke was still fighting with Callum, Kyle's eggs were all destroyed, James had been wounded and a few of his eggs crushed, and Connor was still going commando, darting from building to building.

"Ten bucks if you hit Connor!" I screamed to Sam. He whooped and took aim.

Before I could join him, a bullet hit my back, and I hit the ground, a spike of pain stabbing from my torso down to my toes. I was too shocked to even yelp.

My gun was kicked from my hand, sending it skittering across the room.

"Turn around," a familiar voice grunted behind me. With difficulty, I obeyed, ripping off my night vision goggles.

Techno stood above me, his brow furrowed, his eyes cold. His gun nuzzle was directed towards my face.

"Take off your helmet," he ordered.

"What the hell are you doing?" I asked. "You make a deal with the Brits or something?"

"I said take off your helmet. Do it!"

"Techno," I said slowly. "Put your gun down. A shot from this close could kill me."

"Take. Off. Your. Helmet." His mouth tweaked in a smirk. "Now."

"What's your problem? If you want my eggs, you know where they're at! Just take my gun and leave me be."

Techno shook his head. "I don't care about the eggs. All I need is you out of the picture."

"Me?" I said. "Why? What are you talking about?"

Techno laughed. "Caesar was right. You are naïve."

Suddenly, my mouth became incredibly dry and my heart sank.

Techno was the traitor.

**Thanks for reading! Feel free to review! **


	14. Chapter 14

(Lacey's POV)

"You can't be serious," I said.

"Oh, I'm dead serious," Techno smirked. "All I ever wanted was to be something. When I was recruited, I thought I would become just that: something special. It ended up with me just sitting in the corner getting ordered around by you lot. _Techno, bring up a map for the mansion we need to hit. Techno, calculate the angle we'd need to jump to get over this fence for us._ For God's sake, you even nicknamed me 'Techno'! My name's CJ! Is that really so hard to say?"

"You could have just said something," I grumbled.

"You would never listen!"

"Did you try?"

Techno scowled. "No, but I just know." He paused. "Caesar promised me power. He said I could be someone, that my skills would be used and appreciated. We'd be partners in crime, once I launched him into the big league."

"He's going to turn against you!"

"I trust him. We know where we're coming from—he wanted power, so do I. A perfect match." Techno reached down and yanked off my helmet, exposing the soft flesh of my neck and face. "You saw my laptop a few nights ago. You saw the blueprints of the Pentagon I was creating for Caesar to hit. You need to die. I can't have you spilling this to your little boyfriend or to Zeke or whoever."

"He's not my boyfriend," I said, trying to buy time. I could only hope Sam had noticed I stopped shooting, and he would come check on me.

Techno smiled and nudged my leg with his foot. His face blushed, acting like the Techno I thought I had known. "Oh come on, you totally dig each other. Just admit that you completely adore him. You may be surrounded by boys, but you sure are a girl." Then he shook his head, the cold glint returning to his eyes. "Stop it! You're making me like you!"  
>"Techno, you're like a brother to me," I said. "I love you, and I didn't know what you were doing that night until you just told me. You said it was for a mission—I respect your privacy."<p>

"Quit talking!" he screamed. "I'm sorry, but I need to kill you!"

And he aimed his gun.

((()))

(Callum's POV)

I had managed to escape Zeke and was heading over to the bakery, absolutely confident that was where Lacey was hiding. Arif had said that was where she was, unless he was lying. When I had asked him, he had been under gunpoint, but I had said all I wanted was to talk to her.

I sure hope he bought it.

I was thrilled when I heard Lacey's voice as I edged near the door, staying clear of Sam's field of vision, but froze when I heard what she was saying.

"Techno, you're like a brother to me. I love you, and I didn't know what you were doing that night until you just told me. You said it was for a mission. I respect your privacy."

"Quit talking!" That had to be Techno. "I'm sorry, but I need to kill you!"

I rushed forward, slamming into the boy, both of us hitting the floor. From the corner of my eye, I saw Lacey on the ground, her face twisted in pain, her helmet lying discarded on the floor. I tore the boy's gun from his hand, throwing it across the room, letting it shatter against the wall. Techno threw an elbow at my exposed neck and threw me off him, running out the door.

I crawled over to Lacey, coughing a little, handing her the helmet. "What was that?" I asked.

"Techno," she whispered, her voice slightly breaking. "He's the traitor."

Sam rushed into the room then, as well as James and Connor. I covered Lacey, keeping her exposed head safe. "Don't shoot!" we cried.

Sam eyed us warily. "What were you two doing in here?"

"Getting a snog on, Callum?" Connor cheered. "Good show!"

"Techno's the traitor," Lacey murmured.

"What's that dear?"

"Techno's the traitor." Lacey stood up, and I could tell her back was bothering her. "He can't get away. He's teamed up with Caesar to do something against the Pentagon. We need to find him."

James piped up. "But we don't have any ammo left."

Lacey reached under her armor and pulled out an egg carton. "We'll make due. Find him and capture him at all costs." She eyed us all, especially Sam. "Dead or alive. Right now, he's public enemy number one." She then took my hand and dragged me upright. "Training's over. It's do or die now."

Still holding my hand, she pulled me out the door.

Zeke was running over when we passed him up. "Where'd Techno go?" I asked.

"Down near the lake, why?"

Lacey stared at me, horrified. "He's going to send those blueprints to the King's Men. Those buildings are the highest out here."

"He'll get wireless from campus out there," I nodded. We both took off, sprinting as fast as we could. The lake was at least a mile away. Techno had quite a head start, and even though he'd have to keep his laptop above water, he was quite a strong swimmer, as I had seen numerous times during practice.

I, being the genius I was, stumbled on a root I didn't see a quarter mile away from the lake. When I got up to keep running, I started to limp. "Go!" I told Lacey.

She looked hesitant. "But the water—"

"You can do it," I said. "Trust me. You can do it. I'll be right behind you."

Lacey nodded, a little unsure, but took off at a dead sprint.

((()))

(Lacey's POV)

I couldn't do this. Standing at the lake, quickly removing my armor, I was now in full-on panic mode. Techno was already swimming, go slower than normal, as he had one hand out of the water and holding his laptop high, and was already halfway to the island. If he reached shore before me, he would disappear within the buildings atop the small island, and it would be too late. I wouldn't have time to find him.

_You can do it_, Callum had said.

God I hope he was right.

The water seemed chilly, and I could imagine crests falling over my head, pushing me lower, lower, until I was out of breath and my lungs burned for air.

_Just do it_, I yelled at myself. _This is tough, but cherubs are tougher._ I could imagine Smalls roaring at me to get my butt in the water.

I sighed and dove right in.

The first moment I was shocked by the cold of the water, and the next I forgot how to swim. But, true to his word, Callum was right; my arms began moving, my feet kicking, and soon I got into a rhythm, trying my hardest not to think about the water that I was swimming through.

Techno's escape attempts were becoming more panicky, I noticed. He started kicking harder, a few drops of water landing on his computer, his grip even faltering at times. He had noticed me coming after him, and with his gun abandoned on shore, he was desperate to distance himself from me. A fair fight would be brutal, and difficult to best with enough time to send the message without reinforcements interfering.

A mouthful of water caught me off-guard, and I stopped and choked for a moment before trying to get in stride again. Even with this minor setback, I became ever closer to the traitor.

Techno stepped on shore a few seconds before me, so I used the next wave to propel myself to land, taking off running. Techno was tired, and stumbling, and I saw which building he ran into for cover. There was no paint splatters on these buildings—no fighters had ever made it to this area before that faced any opposition.

I ran inside and stormed up the stairs, hearing Techno in the room above. A door slammed shut in my face, making me stop to kick it down.

"Get away!" Techno cried, throwing a rock at me. It bounced harmlessly off my chest.

"There's no hope," I told him. "Give up while you can and I won't hurt you."

"Why can't you just leave me alone?"  
>"Because I do what's right. Don't make this harder than it already is."<p>

Techno clutched at his hair, pulling a clump lose with his hand. "What about what I want?" he shrieked. "Doesn't that matter to you?"  
>"You stopped mattering to me the moment you connived with Pallestrani." I took a step forward. "My first priority is the safety of the United States and the world. That's what CHERUB stands for. They gave me a home, and they gave me a family to look after. If you get in the way of that, I will crush you, like any other opposition."<p>

With that I lunged for Techno, my punch getting deflected and one of his knees jamming into my ribs. I hissed in pain, fighting through it as I flipped over, catching Techno's neck between my legs, pinning his torso to the ground.

I wished this would be easy, like I was fighting a red shirt, or maybe even a navy. Techno, however, had been through every Advanced Combat Course I had taken, as well as had one-on-one time with our instructor. He was in an enraged and confused state, a mental breakdown probably caused by all the combination of stress and terror he had faced over the last few months, yet was still quite a fearsome enemy.

One of his knees cracked against the back of my head, a cry shooting from my lips. I rolled off him, crouching and springing into a tackle, elbowing the boy in his nose so his eyes watered and he lie stunned for a moment. I wrapped one arm around his neck and pinned him down with my legs, ignoring his hands as he clawed at my arms and my face.

Techno managed to throw my legs off and stand up, slamming me repeated into the wall. I kicked at the laptop in his hand, rewarded by it falling to the ground. The traitor roared in anger, and I fell away, kicking the computer across the room, running after it and slamming on it once with my boot before I had to fight Techno again.

"Give that to me!" he bellowed.

"Burn in hell," I replied, shoving him away. "You want this so bad?" I quickly snatched the laptop from the ground, racing over to the large open window. I held it out over the sill, into the open air.

Techno charged, his eyes wide, glasses crooked and one lens cracked, his mouth open in a snarl. I threw the computer with its lid up, knowing it would smash against the ground, the file unable to send, or at least get service.

He dove out the window, and I looked away before I saw him hit the ground. All I heard was the resounding thud, and then a loud moan.

Gathering all my strength, I peered over the edge.

Techno was writhing on the ground, his face contorted in agony, screaming bloody murder. I raced down to him, nearly tripping down the stairs, and ran over, smashing the laptop first, making sure it wouldn't be able to send the file but at least have it extracted.

Next I tended to Techno, holding his head still, hoping his neck wasn't broken, his spine intact.

I barely noticed when I was pulled away, senior agents and CHERUB personnel taking over. I barely noticed Callum's arms when he wrapped them around me, whispering words I couldn't hear, his body drenched from his swim out here. I was looking at his face, but wasn't seeing. My mind was elsewhere, my eyes still trying to catch a glimpse of Techno as he lay crumpled on the ground, still moaning.

((()))

(Callum's POV)

Lacey was different the next few days. After Techno had been escorted to a hospital—on campus, for obvious reasons—he had been treated to a point where he could be transferred to a prison ward, and all the Americans had watched him go. They were all in full uniform: a fitted white shirt and navy blazer, complete with a list of badges on their left breast, rectangular and multi-colored. The boys wore navy slacks and dress shoes, Lacey a skirt and heels. Each had on a hat with their flag, hair in military regulation.

If this had been a service for a hero, there would have been flags and fanfare, yet this was for a dishonorable discharge. It was only Smalls, Lancaster, and the agents.

Techno was carted into a van, being forced to pass slowly by each of those he betrayed.

There was not a dry eye in the building as we watched, but those outside had stony faces, bottom lips stiff.

The first in line was Sam, who spit at Techno. Arif was next, and he did the same. Zeke just stared at Techno, his eyes harsh, saying, "I am very disappointed in you, CJ. I thought you could do better."

Techno looked away, his lip quivering.

Lacey was last, and the gurney stopped in front of her. She turned her back on Techno, and he raised a hand. "Lacey," he called out. She made no noise, her only movement was to wipe at her eye, as though a tear had finally gotten to her. Zeke nodded at the man carting Techno away, and he loaded him into the car. "Wait, wait!" Techno ordered. "Wait, I want to talk to Lacey! Lacey! Lacey, please!"

She didn't say anything, and as the doors slammed shut, the van driving off, Smalls took her in his arms, patting her back as she started to cry.

The Americans all surrounded her, the agents all sobbing now, the adults trying hard to keep their faces bright and comforting.

"Hey, Large!" I heard Connor yell. "Why don't you give us hugs like that?"

Large growled in reply. "You want laps, Reilly?"

"Do I get a hug as reward?"

"That's it, fifty laps!"  
>"So that's a yes?"<p>

I shook my head. Sometimes my brother was a real idiot, and I would have to tease him about it later.

I pushed open the door, walking over to the Americans' huddle, and joining in. Soon, my mates did too, followed by more agents, then more. It was all one massive pile, minus Connor. What a tosser he is… Eventually, we broke apart, Lacey and the others heading to their rooms. I visited her an hour later, surprised to find her suitcase open on her bed, Kerry and Lauren in her room, helping to fold clothes and place them inside.

I knocked, and their heads snapped towards me. "You're leaving?" I said, my heart dropping.

Lacey sniffled, nodding her head, returning to placing a shirt in her bag. "We leave in for the plane in an hour."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"I just found out."  
>"Quit being cranky," Kerry snapped at me. "You're being a real tit right now."<br>"Me?" I hissed. "How?"

"You're being all about you, huh?"

Lacey cleared her throat. "He's being normal." She risked a smile, although it failed when arranged with her sorrowful eyes. "Could you two give us a second? Alone?"

Lauren and Kerry nodded and pushed past me, the door shutting quietly behind them.

I stood there for a moment, a bit awkward as neither of us said anything for a while. Then, Lacey rushed me, throwing her arms around my body in a tight embrace. "I'm going to miss you Callum," she murmured.

I returned the embrace. "You have no idea how much I'll miss you," I replied. "Why are you heading back?"

"We need to heal. We want to do that at home. The red shirts need us. They loved Techno." She wiped at her eyes. "We need to clean out his room."

"Call dibs on the mini fridge."

Lacey laughed, then smacked my shoulder. "Stop that. You're making me happy."

"You deserve to be."

"But I—"

"Listen." I took her hands and held them, probably for the only time I'd ever be able to. "You suffered a horrible loss, but you need to know that there's light at the end of the tunnel. You have some good mates here—they'll look after you, and you can count on that." I smiled. "I've got your back, okay? Next time I won't twist my ankle though, promise."

She grinned, and my heart lifted for a moment. It felt wonderful to see her smile.

"Want to help me pack?" she asked.

"Do you remember France?" I snickered. "You saw my awful packing skills."

She threw a t-shirt at me. "Then fold. I'll keep watch over you."

"Then that's not work!" I protested. "You like what you see! I'm not even able to stare at you if I'm looking down at clothes."

She tossed another t-shirt at me. "Maybe if you do a good job you'll get a reward."

My hands were a blur as began meticulously folding each article of clothing, just the way she taught me.

((()))

(still Callum's POV)

"There!" I proclaimed, stuffing the last roll of socks in her suitcase and zipping it shut. "Last one. Do I get my reward now?"

"Depends. What do you want?"

I smiled. I knew exactly what I wanted.

Lacey looked at me, tearing her gaze from her window. "Callum? Something wrong?"

I pushed her against the pane, her torso pressing against mine, our hands intertwined. "I need to kiss you," I said.

"You already did." Lacey's eyes were wide, still a little surprised. "Twice."

"Are you sure that wasn't Connor? I swear, if he kissed you when you were clearly off-limits—"

She giggled. "No, you were absolutely smashed after Kyle's party, and you kissed me when I helped you into bed."

My cheeks reddened. "We didn't… I mean, we didn't _do_ anything, right? Not that you're not attractive. I mean, Connor talks about how fit you are all the time, and—"

Lacey cut me off by placing a hand on my cheek, sending a tingling sensation through my skin and making my jaw slack. "Stop. You're blabbering."

"So can I kiss you now?"

"You actually ask for permission?"

I blushed again, glancing down for only a moment before raising my head, placing a hand on her cheek, and drawing her in for a nice, slow kiss.

If you had read my mind at that moment, it probably would have been filled with stupid thoughts like: _Oh my god, am I doing this right?_, _Wow, her lips are so soft. Is that strawberry chapstick?_, or _Hell, did I remember to eat a mint after that taco? Jesus, she's probably suffering!_

"Is my breath okay?" I said, pulling away suddenly.

"You're fine," she said, pulling me back in. This time, my mind went blank as our lips melted together.

A knock on the window shocked us out of our kiss, and we turned to look. Connor was two stories below, a pebble in his hand before he threw it at the pane. "You dog!" he yelled, his voice soft through the grass. "This is such a Kodak moment—Callum's first snog!"

"I'm gonna murder you!" I screamed.

"Bring it on brother!"

"Reilly!" Large's voice thundered outside, scaring Connor witless. "You slacking off? Not on my watch! Twenty more! Let's go!"  
>Connor yelled a few obscenities, which made Large add another ten.<p>

"You promise to write?" I asked Lacey. "I want to know how you're doing."

"We'll visit again. If you're ever in the States, give me a ring."

"You're turning British!" I chuckled. "The phrases you're using… Quick! Say something American!"

"Um… Uncle Sam came riding through the Delaware River like George Washington."

"Uh, what?"

"Its American history. I don't expect you to understand, you little Brit."

I stole another kiss, my stomach flipping. I could get used to this.

**One more chapter left… Thanks for reading!**


	15. Chapter 15

(Lacey's POV)

Callum and I wandered out of my room, my suitcase in tow. "You should seem my room back home," I said. "It's covered in posters, and I even painted it a cool color."

"Let me guess."

"You'll never get it."

"Lime green with white flowers." I smacked his arm. Callum flicked away a strand of his blonde hair and smiled his crooked smile. "Well, you like your suitcase so…"

I smiled again, opening Zeke's door and stepping in, turning my head to start asking him if he was ready to leave.

Callum reacted first. "Holy God," he said, bowing his head, turning back out the door.

I just smirked. We had caught Zeke and Kyle mid-snog, getting a little too comfy with their personal space. Zeke had one hand in Kyle's dark hair, the other pressing against the boy's back. Kyle was in a similar position. "Lacey," Zeke gasped, a bit breathless, struggling to pull himself away.

"Just paintball eh?"

"So the winner got a little something extra; it's a win-win for me." Kyle, surprisingly, said not a word, nor witty comeback. He pressed his face into Zeke's shoulder, and Zeke rested his head atop Kyle's own.

"Bloody hell Kyle," Callum snorted. "I always knew you'd be the bloody girl in the relationship."

"If you talk to him like that one more time, Brit, I'll beat you black and blue," Zeke spat. "Regardless if you're snogging my team member."

Callum's eyes widened. "Sorry I—"

"Get lost," Zeke said. Looking at me, he instructed, a little kinder, "both of you. I know I need to go, Lacey, but I'll just be a minute more."

I nodded, a little slow. "Sure Zeke. See you at the tarmac."  
>Eventually, I knew we had to go. I was overjoyed to be heading back home, where I knew the halls like the back of my hand, and everyone didn't speak with a funny accent.<p>

I gave all my new friends a hug goodbye, even Connor, although it was slight and he was disgusting after running his punishment laps.

Callum gave me a hug and a secretive peck on the lips before sending me on my way.

The four of us hopped onto the chopper that was to take us away.

A mass of the Britain CHERUB agents waved to us as we flew through the air, waving goodbye.

"Au revoir," I whispered. At least it wasn't _adieu_.

EIGHT MONTHS LATER

(still Lacey's POV)

Zeke was gone. He had aged out of the program and was now a freshman at some swanky college. I still can't remember the name of it, but I know he's happy there. He calls from time to time, says he's enjoying his classes, and studies really hard, getting good grades. Kyle's a good study partner, and dorm mate.

I still couldn't believe they went to the same school, let alone lived together.

Smalls wasn't very excited to hear that.

Callum and I were still going strong. We phoned every night, although at times Connor would love to steal the phone and I would hear them wrestling over it.

"Stop it Connor! Give it back!"

"Tell me you love me!"

"I'm only gonna tell her that!"

"Aw, come on, quit being grumpy."

"I'm not grumpy; your behavior is making me despise you!"

"Aw, Mr. Grumpy Pants. How cute."

"Connor!"

Besides the calls, we would pass letters along, telling each other how we've been.

The American team finally found two members to replace our missing troops, and to my joy, another girl was added to the squad. She was nice, rather boisterous too, and I knew we would be alright.

The new recruits and red shirts constantly asked about the people who slots they were filling or had noticed weren't on campus anymore, and we would talk about Zeke and all his academic accomplishments.

Not one of us spread the word about Techno. Last any of us had heard, he was confined to a prison cell awaiting trial for treason, although his trial may never come due to the incriminating and disclosing story he had to tell.

Somehow, this all worked out. Every chaotic mess comes at you at the same time, and it never spreads itself out.

Smalls was always right. This had been tough, but cherubs were tougher.

**Thanks to all who stayed with me on this journey!**

** A special shout-out to Diamondsgirl101 and cleanupguywithagun. You all inspired me to keep writing with your lovely reviews. I hope this story does the CHERUB forum justice :)**

**Thanks for reading, anyone, everyone!**

**Always, your community satyr worshipper,**

**SatyrsUnite**


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